


if i had a heart.

by porcelainsimplicity



Series: this will never end 'cause i want more. [1]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, F/M, M/M, New York, New York City, Novella
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-01 05:51:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16278980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainsimplicity/pseuds/porcelainsimplicity
Summary: this will never end'cause i want moremore, give me more, give me moreif i had a heart i could love youor: John's in an interesting clandestine relationship with Bobby, who is in a very public relationship with Kitty, who has a clandestine relationship of her own.  there are lots of secrets being kept in New York and not all of them are about relationships.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so I wrote this like four years ago, and I had it posted here and everything, but I took it down because I never finished the series, and I've been sitting here rereading it and reworking it for the past god only knows how long, so I'm beginning to repost it with the aim of actually finishing this series this time. No idea on the timetable for that, because I'm only writing like 42541534304534054351 million things at the moment, but I've missed writing my fire and ice otp so badly that I'm determined to do it.
> 
> Also, it's tagged both Original Timeline and Alternate Timeline because in my head the Erik, Charles, and Raven in this are younger like they are in the alternate timeline. Everyone else is around the same age (and the Summers brothers' age dynamic is back to normal). That probably only makes sense to me, but hey, it is what it is.

this will never end  
'cause i want more  
more, give me more, give me more

this will never end  
'cause i want more  
more, give me more, give me more

if i had a heart i could love you  
if i had a voice i would sing  
after the morning when i wake up  
i'll see what tomorrow brings

if i had a voice i would sing  
_if i had a heart_ by fever ray

John opened his eyes slowly, revealing the pitch black ceiling above him. The ceiling meant he was in his apartment, which meant that the previous night with Bobby had not gone well, and he sighed heavily before sitting up in bed.

Sometimes dating a man who was still very much in the closet was just not worth it.

Sometimes loving a man who was still very much in the closet made it worth it.

John took a moment to stretch and then climbed out of bed, making his way to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and stared inside it for a moment before he came to the conclusion that he had nothing to eat, so he padded off to the bathroom for a quick shower. Less than twenty minutes later, he was walking down the stairs of his building, nodding hello to the few neighbors he bumped into on the way down.

He made it out of the building and down to the corner store, picking up a basket by the entrance and starting the familiar walk through the store, grabbing the things he usually bought and nothing more. He never kept much food in the apartment, because he never knew when Bobby was going to call, and he'd learned a long time ago that keeping more than just the essentials in the house was a waste, because all they would do is spoil before he could eat them. So a box of cereal and a small carton of milk, a thing of granola bars and a bag of potato chips, some candy from near the register and a bottle of Pepsi from the small fridge in front of the bagging area. It was always the same.

“The usual, John?” came the friendly voice of Marie, his good friend who worked as a checker there, and he just smiled at her.

“Of course,” John said, grabbing a magazine off the rack and staring at it for a moment. “This too.”

“Ooh, Bobby Drake on the cover. He's dreamy,” Marie said, her Southern accent very pronounced.

John just laughed. “Remy know you think that?”

“I'm allowed to look,” Marie said defensively. “Not like I'd ever get the chance to touch anyway. People like Bobby Drake don't live in Gravesend.”

“People like Bobby Drake don't live in Brooklyn,” John corrected. “I imagine he's got a penthouse somewhere in Manhattan with a great view of Central Park.”

_In fact, Marie, I know he does._

“Too true, Johnny boy. Too true.”

Marie finished ringing him up and John paid for his food, grabbing the bags and making his way out of the store. He went straight back to his apartment and put the food away, then let himself collapse onto his dilapidated sofa with the magazine in hand. It was one of the celebrity ones, and Bobby was smiling on the cover like it was his senior picture in a high school yearbook. The earnest look on his face was enough to make John laugh out loud, but the laughing stopped when he turned to the article and saw the other pictures accompanying it.

Kitty was in them.

It wasn't that John didn't like Kitty. It was more that he didn't like what Kitty stood for, and what Kitty stood for was cover. Rich, high profile real estate mogul Bobby Drake couldn't possibly have a boyfriend in Brooklyn when he had his high school sweetheart-turned-model by his side. John found himself throwing the magazine across the room without even reading the article, and he sighed heavily. He slid down on the sofa until he was lying on it, and then he tucked a pillow beneath his head, reaching out to turn on the television.

He dozed off after awhile, only realizing it when his phone started to ring. He reached for it sleepily and pushed the right button, putting the phone up to his ear. “Yo.”

“Are you ever going to learn to answer the phone in a civilized manner?”

A smile spread across John's face. “I'll answer the phone in a civilized manner the day you stop hiding behind Kitty and act like the man you really are.”

He could just picture the look on Bobby's face. It made him want to laugh, but he knew better.

“I was going to invite you over for dinner tonight. Now I'm not so sure.”

“Please. You couldn't stay away from me if you tried.”

Bobby sighed into the phone. “I need to try.”

John sat up straight, recognizing that tone of voice. “Bobby, there is nothing keeping you in the closet but yourself.”

“My family would disown me.”

“Since when do you care about what your family thinks?” John asked, his voice harsher than usual, but god, he was getting sick of this shit.

“They invited me and Kitty to the Hamptons. Kitty wants to go.”

John sighed heavily. “You know what they want, Drake.”

“I know. They want money. They want me to give Ronny a job. They want to live the high society life. They think that because I've worked my ass off for all of this that I should just hand it over as though they deserve it. But I know what this weekend in the Hamptons is really about. They can't hide it from me.”

John collapsed back onto the sofa. “They want you to marry Kitty.”

“They want me to marry Kitty,” Bobby said, his voice tired. “I can't keep coming up with reasons not to propose.”

“Um, how about the fact that you're gay?” John asked. “How about the fact that Kitty would laugh in your face if you proposed?”

“I'm not gay.” Bobby's tone was short and clipped. “And she would not laugh.”

John wanted to scream. “Fine. You're not gay; you just like dirty, gay sex. And I barely know Kitty, but I know enough to know that she would not marry you, Drake.”

“Can you stop using the g-word please?” Bobby pleaded.

John grabbed the pillow from underneath his head and started beating himself with it. “You've got to be kidding me, Drake.”

“John, just please,” Bobby trailed off. “Dinner?”

“When and where and what name do I give?”

“My place. I'll pick you up.”

John stopped beating himself with the pillow. “What about Kitty?”

“She's in Venice shooting a campaign for Versace.”

“You want to be seen in Gravesend?”

“No one is going to know it's me,” Bobby said. “I'm not getting out of the car.”

John forced himself to take a deep breath. “Bobby, you have been to my apartment a grand total of one time, and you ended up as the blind item on Page Six because of it. They're going to know who you are.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I don't care.”

 _Yeah, sure you don't._ “Alright, Drake, but it's your image on the line, just remember that.”

“I know what's at stake, John. I don't need you to tell me.” John could hear someone talking in the background. “I have to go. Wear something nice. You know what. I'll pick you up at seven.”

And then the phone went dead.

John tossed the phone onto his coffee table and ran his hands over his face. Sometimes, he wondered what the hell it was he was doing with Bobby Drake. Then he saw him, and that smile that he'd first been drawn to, and he remembered all over again.

They'd met at a society party in Manhattan. Bobby had been a guest; John had been a waiter. Throughout the night, Bobby kept coming over to John to get whatever it was that was on his tray at the time – flutes of champagne, canapes, whatever – and at the end of the night, he discreetly slipped something into John's pocket. John thought maybe it had been a tip; it turned out to be Bobby's phone number.

And thus began his love affair with New York's most closeted man. At first, Bobby was so embarrassed at having given John his number that he told John it was a mistake. Then he'd called John back in the middle of the night, begging John to be patient with him, telling John how attractive he was, asking John if they could meet soon. John knew what he was getting in to, but he didn't think that four years later, Bobby would still be so deep in the closet that John wasn't sure he even knew where the door was.

But John loved him and Bobby took care of him. John liked to think that the money was Bobby's way of showing the feelings that he couldn't voice, but on a really dark night, all John could think about was how Bobby was practically paying him for sex. Bobby paid his rent, he paid his bills, he kept John's bank account full of money, and sometimes he made John feel like a prostitute.

John figured it was a trade he was willing to make to be able to lounge around all day and be ready at a moment's notice for the man he loved.

He glanced over at the clock and realized it was nearly seven, and he cursed Bobby for not giving him much time and wondered how he'd managed to miss that he'd slept all day. He got up and made his way to his closet, searching through it until he found the clothes he knew Bobby had been talking about. Black trousers that were a size too tight so they hugged his ass perfectly, white button-down shirt that fit him like a glove, and the skinny black silk tie that Bobby loved for John to tie him up with. John felt a shiver go down his spine just at touching the silk.

He quickly got dressed and made his way into his kitchen, reaching into the freezer and pulling out the bottle of vodka he kept there. He took the cap off and brought it to his lips, letting the vodka burn his throat for a few moments before putting the cap back on it and putting it back in the freezer. He took a deep breath and went over to the window, watching as Bobby's sleek red BMW pulled up outside. He grabbed his keys off the counter and walked out of the apartment, jogging down the stairs and getting out of the building and into Bobby's car as quickly as he could.

Bobby didn't say anything once the door was shut, just sped away from the building and quickly got them out of the neighborhood. John buckled himself in and looked over at Bobby, sneaking a hand over to rest on his knee. He knew from experience that Bobby probably wouldn't talk until they were inside his penthouse in Manhattan, so he leaned back against the leather seat and just enjoyed the ride.

Bobby's building had underground parking, and since he owned the penthouse, Bobby had a reserved spot just next to the elevators. Once the car was parked, they both got out and made their way into the elevator. John leaned up against the wall as Bobby put in the key for the penthouse, and then Bobby turned and looked him up and down hungrily, making John wonder if they were going to have dinner at all.

He wouldn't be that upset if they didn't.

The ride to the penthouse took a few minutes, because the penthouse was the fifty-third and fifty-fourth floors of the building, and Bobby didn't take his eyes away from John for a second of it. When the elevator doors opened, they walked straight into the penthouse, and as soon as the elevator doors were shut, Bobby grabbed John and pulled him into a hard, bruising kiss. John sighed into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Bobby's neck, pulling him closer. Bobby's hands wrapped around John's waist as he deepened the kiss, licking into John's mouth and playing with his tongue. When he felt like he needed to breathe, Bobby pulled away, smiling at John as he licked his lips.

“Dinner?”

John took a moment as Bobby walked towards the dining room, and then John followed him, finding dinner for two already set out on the table. “I'm surprised you didn't make sure the staff had left before you kissed me.”

“Oh, they knew to be out of here by the time I got back from work. I threatened to fire anyone who wasn't.” Bobby sat down at the table and motioned to John to do the same. “No one will be here until Monday.”

“Monday?” John gave Bobby a look of surprise. “You should have told me. I would have brought more clothes.”

Bobby reached for his glass of wine. “I don't plan on having you wear clothes for much of that time, to be honest.”

John grinned as he reached for his glass. “You should have told me that too.”

“Well, I thought you liked surprises.”

“I do,” John said, taking a sip of his wine. “This is just an unexpected one, given how last night went.”

Bobby sucked in a deep breath. “I didn't expect them to call.”

“I know,” John said, setting his glass down and picking up his fork. “I just don't understand why you let a phone call keep us from our plans.”

“Pardon me for not being able to fuck after talking to my mother,” Bobby said, taking a large sip of his wine. “I did say you could stay the night.”

“I couldn't. Not after you left me high and dry in bed. I had to go home and jerk off,” John said, laughing slightly when Bobby spluttered. “What? Do you think I just went home and went to bed? Come on, Drake.”

“Just eat, John.”

They ate dinner in a comfortable silence, Bobby talking about work every once in a while. John didn't really have much to say about that, considering Bobby was dealing with million-dollar properties in Florida and John had a hard time spending more than fifty dollars on a pair of jeans, no matter how much money Bobby gave him. Once the plates had been taken to the kitchen and the wine had been finished, Bobby took John by the hand and led him to the bedroom.

They met again in a deep kiss, Bobby's hands coming up to undo the tie around John's neck. John noticed that he tossed it onto the bed instead of the floor, and he felt a shiver go down his spine. Soon Bobby's suit coat was on the floor, his tie joining it, and then they broke the kiss and stared at each other with silly grins as they undid the buttons on each other's shirts. When they were done, the shirts were shoved off onto the floor, and Bobby fell to his knees in front of John, leaning forward and mouthing along his clothed cock.

John groaned and tangled his fingers in Bobby's hair, and then Bobby was undoing his trousers and letting them drop to the floor, slowly pulling John's underwear down with them. Bobby licked a stripe along the bottom of John's cock before taking the leaking head into his mouth and sucking gently, drawing several obscenities from John's mouth.

Bobby Drake might be deep in the closet, but someone somewhere along the way had taught him how to suck cock like a motherfucking master.

John felt his knees go weak as Bobby took him all the way to the root, tongue swirling around his hard flesh as he pulled back. He got a good rhythm going, sucking at the right moments, scraping his teeth gently just when it was necessary, tonguing the slit when he paid attention to the head. John felt himself close, so he tugged at Bobby's hair and Bobby pulled back, grinning up at John obscenely.

“Get your clothes off and get on the bed,” John said, his voice low and sultry.

Bobby stood up and stripped the rest of his clothes away, crawling onto the bed and reaching into a drawer in the side table to pull out the lube. John edged his way onto the bed, nudging Bobby's legs apart with his knees, and then grabbed the lube from where it sat on the bed.

Bobby stared up at him with hooded eyes as he reached down to stroke his own cock. “Fuck me, Johnny?”

He always asked, as though John could say no to that invitation.

“Of course, baby,” John answered, knowing Bobby needed the reassurance that yes, John really did want to do this.

John slicked up two fingers and plunged them into Bobby's receptive body, thrusting them in and out to make Bobby ready for him. He tried not to think about how this was the position they were in the night before when Bobby's mother had called, but fuck, he needed this after not getting it the night before. It wasn't long until Bobby was writhing on the bed beneath him, and John slicked up his cock before slowly sliding it into him.

Bobby let out a shameless moan as John filled him, reaching down behind his knees and pulling at them to spread himself open for John. John bent down and kissed Bobby hard as he started to thrust, breaking away to trail kisses down Bobby's neck to his collarbone. They moved together in perfect harmony, the motions that were so familiar and so satisfying. John propped himself up on one hand and moved the other in between their bodies, wrapping around Bobby's cock and stroking him in time with his thrusts.

John wanted to drag it out, to tease Bobby right to the edge and back off, but after being so close to this the night before and being denied it, John found himself thrusting faster, desperate to reach the ultimate in pleasure, coming while buried deep within Bobby. Bobby's breath hitched and then he was arching into John's touch as he came, his walls clenching hard around John's cock, drawing his orgasm from him. They collapsed in a sweaty, messy heap on the bed, and it took John awhile before he had the energy to pull out and move off of Bobby.

They laid there in silence, chests rising and falling as they gathered their breath, and eventually John looked over at Bobby, and it was just a moment later that Bobby turned and looked at him.

“Good?” John asked.

“Amazing,” Bobby answered. “We should do that every night.”

John laughed. “We try to.”

“I know,” Bobby said, smiling. “I'm sorry about last night.”

“Don't worry about it,” John said, tangling his fingers with Bobby's. “This made up for it.”

Bobby shook his head. “No, this was for tonight. The rest of the weekend is to make up for last night.”

John smiled and turned his gaze up to the ceiling, letting his eyes drift closed. “I don't care if we don't leave this bed again until Sunday night.”

“Good,” Bobby said, shifting around until he was curled up next to John's side. “'Cause I'm not planning to let you go far.”

John turned and pressed a kiss to the top of Bobby's head. “Glad to hear it.”


	2. Chapter 2

John was wandering around Old Gravesend Cemetery, plucking dead flowers from headstones. There had been an ad in the local paper about wanting volunteers to help with the upkeep of the old cemetery, and he'd jumped at it. Cemeteries were a place of great history, and therefore they were places of great inspiration.

John needed all the inspiration he could get. He hadn't told Bobby yet, but he'd gone and bought himself a laptop, and he'd started to write things on it. He'd enjoyed writing since he took a creative writing class in high school, and he figured writing was a good way to spend his time. It gave him something to do during the day, and it was something he could easily leave when Bobby called.

"Johnny? You admirin' that headstone or you workin'?"

John laughed and turned to throw a bouquet of dead flowers in Remy's direction. "Shut up, Remy."

"Hey now!" Remy exclaimed, dodging the flowers. "You're just makin' more work for us."

John sighed and walked over to where the flowers had landed, starting to pick them up. "I was just thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"Something I'm writing," John said casually. He may not have told Bobby, but Remy and Marie had both somehow gotten the information out of him.

"We ever gonna get to read this stuff?" Remy asked. "You've been writin' for a long time."

John just shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. I'm not really writing this stuff with the thought that anyone is going to read it."

Which was a complete lie. He wanted Bobby to read it and realize John was good for more than just sex.

"Marie's gonna be disappointed. She was hopin' you'd go to one of those open mike poetry nights at the library."

John looked over at Remy and laughed. "Seriously? She thinks I'd do that?"

"Look, the way my Marie sees it, you're either a genius or an idiot, and she thinks open mike night would determine which. She leans genius, by the way." Remy walked over to John and picked up the last of the dead flowers. "I agree with her, you know. You always got good grades in Clarke's writin' class."

Remy had moved from New Orleans to Brooklyn just in time for his senior year of high school, and John had met him two weeks into the year. If he was honest with himself, Remy was the best friend he'd ever had. He'd even introduced Remy to the love of his life, Mississippian-turned-Brooklynite Marie, one day at the corner store. They'd been ganging up on him ever since.

“What are you getting Marie for her birthday?” John asked, trying to change the subject.

Remy sighed and walked over to stuff the dead flowers into a tall, steel can. “I know what I want to get her. I also know I can't afford it yet.”

John knew exactly what that meant. Remy had his heart set on an antique diamond ring at the vintage stop three blocks from his apartment. Remy was always amazed no one had bought it every time they went in there, but he didn't know that John had put down half of what it was worth to keep the shop owner from selling it until Remy was ready to buy it. “Well, since that's out, what are you getting her?”

“I found this really awesome leather duster in the vintage shop,” Remy said, walking down a different row. “But then I realized that would be more of a present for me, so I put it back. I did buy her some lipstick though.”

“Lipstick?” John asked, laughing. “What on earth are you buying her lipstick for?”

“Because,” Remy said. “If she puts it on thick enough, we can kiss without her killin' me.”

All the mutants John knew had cool powers that could become deadly if they used them in a certain way, but Marie's was the only one he knew of that was instantly deadly. Touch her skin for long enough and she'd suck the life out of you. Marie did everything she could to make sure that didn't happen, especially with Remy.

“I got her some new gloves,” John said, tossing dead flowers into the can and waiting for Remy to come over with the rest of them. “Smooth silk with tiny buttons. Should go all the way to her elbows. Exactly the kind she likes.”

Remy walked over and tossed the last of the dead flowers into the can. “You always buy her gloves.”

“Because she always wears them,” John said. “Can't go wrong.”

Remy just sighed. “I can't buy her gloves. I've got to get her somethin' special. Want to go to the vintage shop after this?”

“Sure,” John said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his Zippo. One quick flick of his wrist and the dead flowers were alight. “I swear, there's more of these dead flowers every time we come here. But there's never any fresh flowers when we are here.”

Remy just nodded. “It's weird. But this whole place is weird. Cemeteries creep me the fuck out.”

John laughed. “Then why do you do this with me?”

“Have to spend some sort of time with ya,” Remy said, smiling at him. “You're busy all the time with your mystery man. Marie and I ever goin' to get to meet him?”

John sighed as he thought of Bobby. “I don't know, Remy. I honestly don't know.”

“You've been with this guy for years, Johnny,” Remy said. “Don't ya think it's sayin' somethin' that he doesn't wanna meet your friends?”

“I've told you many times,” John said, his voice tired. “He's not out. He's uncomfortable with anyone but a select few even knowing that we're in a relationship.”

“One of these days, Johnny, you're gonna realize you deserve better,” Remy said, glancing at the steel can. “Get this shit over with so we can get outta here?”

John sighed and then suddenly the flames in the steel can jumped high into the air, burning blue as he increased their heat. It wasn't long until the flames started to descend, and once they were fully into the can, John glanced into it before pulling the fire up into his hand. He closed his fist to put it out, then glanced at Remy. “Put the can by the maintenance shed and let's get out of here.”

Remy nodded and John pushed the can, and it went flying into its spot next to the maintenance shed twenty yards from them. John smiled at him as Remy wrapped an arm around his shoulders and they started walking towards the exit. “You gonna help me pick out a present for my Marie?”

John started to answer but then his phone started ringing. Giving Remy a look of apology, he pulled it from his pocket, took one look at the number calling, and answered it. “Good afternoon, you closeted bastard.”

“Ah, a somewhat civilized greeting. You're improving.”

“Something I can help you with?” John asked, nodding when Remy offered him a cigarette.

“Kitty is going to the Hamptons,” Bobby said. “I'm staying here.”

John thought about that for a moment. “Well, that's better than you both going, I suppose.”

“There's something else.”

“Of course there is.”

“TheythinkI'vealreadyproposed.”

John flicked his Zippo open and then both his and Remy's cigarettes lit up. “You want to say that again? A little slower this time?” John could hear Bobby's hesitation through the phone. “Come on, man. It can't be that difficult to tell me.”

“They think I've already proposed,” Bobby eventually said.

John stopped walking, pulling the cigarette out from between his lips. “Why the fuck would they think that?”

“Because Kitty and I agreed that this would be the next logical step for both of us. I'm not the only one hiding a relationship, you know.”

“No, I don't know,” John said angrily. “So the two of you thought this was the best way to move forward? Why can't the two of you be fucking honest with people for once in your sorry lives?”

“I didn't expect you to understand.”

“Damn right I don't understand,” John muttered, bringing the cigarette to his lips to take a long drag. “Let me guess. There's already a diamond on her finger, and she's been photographed wearing it.”

Bobby sucked in a breath. “Maybe.”

“Fucking hell,” John said, shaking his head. “I don't want to talk to you right now.”

John hung up the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, taking a long drag off his cigarette. Remy was staring at him with a concerned look, and John knew he was practically shaking with anger. After a few puffs of the cigarette, he started walking again, Remy falling into step beside him. “So, Marie's birthday. Do you have any ideas at all about what you want to get her?”

Remy was quiet for a moment. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” John said sharply. “Marie's birthday, LeBeau. That's the focus.”

Remy sighed and wrapped his arm around John's shoulders again. “If you say so. Um, there was a real pretty dress she was lookin' at last time we were in the vintage shop. Long sleeves, lace, real long. Called it a real Southern dress. She might like that.”

John finished off his cigarette and tossed it to the ground. “Sounds like a good place to start.”


	3. Chapter 3

John arrived to Marie's birthday party about half an hour late because he'd been caught up in writing his newest short story and lost track of time. He quickly set her gift down on the table covered with other gifts and made his way over to the birthday girl, giving her a big hug. "Sorry I'm late."

"You're always late, Johnny boy. Nothin' to worry about," Marie said, smiling at him. "Remy's tending bar in the kitchen if you're interested."

John grinned. "You know me too well."

He brushed a kiss along her hair before making his way through the crowd and into the apartment's tiny kitchen, finding Remy in there with two of their friends from high school, Alex and Darwin. "Gentlemen!"

"Allerdyce!" Alex exclaimed, clasping him by the shoulder and shaking him lightly in greeting. "About time you got here!"

"Pay no attention to him," Darwin said seriously. "He was drunk before we got here."

John just laughed and separated himself from Alex's grip. "Remy, man, hit me up."

Remy nodded and started mixing John a drink. "Did ya apologize to my Marie for bein' late?"

"First thing I did when I got here," John said, laughing when Alex slung an arm along John's shoulders. "You're in a good mood tonight, Summers. Why?"

"His brother got him a job at Drake," Darwin said, ignoring the glare that Alex gave him. "What? Scott got you the job."

"Only because he's the head of security and he was the one in charge of hiring someone for the position," Alex quickly pointed out.

Darwin just sighed and turned to John. "You've got to have a Bachelors just to work in the mail room at Drake. Security is a high school diploma. And since this idiot got himself kicked out of school halfway through our senior year, he doesn't have one. So Scott talked whoever is his superior into letting him hire Alex on condition that he gets his GED within a year. So, like I was saying, Scott got him a job at Drake."

"Fuck off, Armando," Alex said indignantly. "You're the one whose stupid idea it was to graffiti the inside of the gym with swear words."

"Yes, and I admitted that, and because of my otherwise exemplary record, I just got a month's suspension. You're the one who was on his last strike and got caught spray painting the word dick onto the basketball court."

"Gentlemen," John interrupted, "we have had this conversation more times than I care to count. How about we just celebrate Marie's birthday and Alex's new job, regardless of how he got it?"

"Sounds good to me," Remy said, handing John his drink. "A sazerac, John. Traditional New Orleans drink."

"And what's in it?" John asked as he took a sip. "Whatever it is, it's amazing."

"Rye whiskey, bitters, and absinthe," Remy said, looking at Darwin. "Would anyone else like one?"

"Of course," Darwin said, grinning. "What use is a party with an open bar if you don't take advantage of it?"

"That's more like it," Remy said, reaching for a bottle as John's phone rang.

"Excuse me," John said quickly, slipping out of the kitchen and onto Remy and Marie's balcony before anyone could say another word. He pulled the phone from his pocket and angrily punched the button to answer it. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Don't sound so happy to hear from me or anything."

"In case you haven't figured it out by the fact that I haven't answered your calls for a month, I am not happy to hear from you, Drake." John's voice was bitter and angry.

Bobby just laughed. "You know I'm only doing this for you, right?"

"That is the biggest bunch of bullshit I have ever heard," John said, taking a long sip of his drink. "Whatever you want, make it quick. I have much better things to do than listen to you lie to me all night."

"I'm not lying to you," Bobby said, and his voice was so sincere that it made John want to jump off the balcony. "It's better this way, John. For all of us."

John heard female giggling in the background and sighed. "Let me guess, she's there with you."

"Of course," Bobby said. "I had to get into your apartment somehow and I don't have a key."

Now John really wanted to jump off the balcony. "You are currently in my apartment."

"Yes, and you're not here, which is very disappointing."

"Kitty phased you through the door to my apartment."

"Well, me and Clarice, yes."

"Who the fuck is Clarice?"

"Kitty's girlfriend," Bobby said as though John was supposed to know that. "The four of us need to talk. So come home."

John sighed heavily. "I'm at a party."

"I thought I paid you to not work anymore."

"Did I say I was working?" John snapped. "I have friends, Drake. They have parties. I go to them."

Bobby sighed. "Surely they won't notice if you missed just this one?"

John cursed under his breath. "Why are you so fucking hard to say no to?"

"Because I am," Bobby said. "I'll expect you in an hour."

And then the phone went dead and John nearly threw it off the balcony.

He made his way inside and through the crowd until he was standing next to Remy. "I've got a problem."

"Johnny, you are always havin' problems," Remy said, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "What is it now?"

"He's at my apartment."

Remy sighed and shook his head. "He's given you some ultimatum, hasn't he?"

"He expects me to be there in an hour."

Remy tightened his grip around his shoulders. "Answer me this Johnny. Do you really love him, like how I love my Marie?"

John fell silent for a few moments then looked up at Remy and nodded. "Yes."

"Then go. I will explain to Marie. She will understand."

John hesitated. "Are you sure Remy? Because I know how much she's been looking forward to this night."

"John, we all want you to be happy. We don't understand how this jerk that can't even meet your friends is good enough for you or how he makes you happy, but if you say that you love him, then you love him. We know the last month has been hard. Go work it out."

John polished off his drink and then gave Remy a quick hug. "Tell Marie I'm sorry."

"She'll understand," Remy said. "Go."

John nodded and made his way out of the apartment, jogging down the stairs and running towards the nearest subway station. On a normal night, he would have just walked, but he wanted to get to his apartment as quickly as possible.

He wasn't sure if he was going there to work it out or to finally kick Bobby Drake out of his life.

Who was he kidding? He couldn't give up Bobby if he tried. Bobby Drake was a drug and John was addicted.

The train ride to his stop seemed to take forever, and then he was jogging up the stairs and onto the street, his building in sight. He could see the lights on in his apartment and sighed. He was not happy about the fact that Bobby had just invited himself, and Kitty, and Kitty's girlfriend – and since when did Kitty have a girlfriend? – into his apartment. And...

“Fuck!” John yelled, breaking into a run. He practically tore the door to his building open and then ran up the stairs, jamming his key into the lock and slamming his door open. Three faces looked up at him, but one was lit by the low light of a laptop screen, and John walked straight over to Bobby and tore the laptop away from him. “That is not for you to read.”

“But John, it was amazing!” Bobby exclaimed.

John just took the laptop and stalked off to his bedroom, closing it and sliding it underneath his bed. He slid his leather jacket off his arms and tossed it onto a chair before collapsing down onto his bed and running his hands over his face. It was only a few seconds before he felt the bed dip beside him, and then a gentle hand was closing around his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face.

“John, look at me.”

John wretched his arm from Bobby's grasp. “Get the fuck out and take the two of them with you.”

“No,” Bobby said, and he had that resolute tone in his voice that John recognized from the times Bobby had been on the phone doing business deals in his presence. “The four of us need to talk, John. The girls have come up with a solution.”

John lowered his hands. “Does this solution involve you not marrying Kitty, coming out of the closet and acknowledging our relationship, and finally meeting my friends who think you're a fucking asshole because you won't meet them?”

“No,” Bobby said, and John cut him off before he could say any more.

“Then I don't want to hear it.”

Bobby sighed before lying down next to John. “John, please. At least hear the girls out. For me.”

“Fuck off.”

They laid there in silence for a few minutes before Bobby's hand crept over and linked with John's. “That story was really good.”

“That story was none of your fucking business.”

“Is that what you do when I'm not here? Write stories?”

John huffed and looked over at Bobby, which he instantly realized was his first mistake. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “I write all kinds of things.”

“Are they always about us?”

John shook his head. “No, usually they're about my friends. That one, that was just because I was missing you so much.”

Bobby smiled at him. “You don't have to miss me anymore, John. You can come listen to the girls' plan, agree to it, and then things can get back to normal.”

“Do you even understand that I don't want things to return to normal?” John asked. “I'm sick of hiding, I'm sick of lying, I'm sick of buying magazines only to see pictures of you with Kitty at premieres and award shows and just walking down the street. I'm sick of her living the life that I should be living as your partner.”

“Do I need to give you more money?” Bobby asked, and John groaned and tore his hand away.

“Out of my apartment. NOW.”

“John,” Bobby said as John sat up and got off the bed. “Come on, John.”

“I don't want more of your fucking money!” John exclaimed, turning around to face him. “I want you, Bobby! I knew that it would be like this in the beginning, but that was four years ago, and now you're fucking ENGAGED and I'm just supposed to be okay with it? Well, I'm not.”

Bobby stood up and grabbed both of John's wrists. “I know that this hasn't been easy for you, but it's not easy for me either. But it's worth it. You're worth it. And I promise you, John, someday that will be you living in the penthouse in Manhattan and enjoying life as my partner. But it just can't happen yet.”

John felt himself melt at the look in Bobby's eyes. Mistake number two. “You've told me that before. And yet here we are.”

“I just need a little more time,” Bobby said, pulling John close to him. “Please, John. Please give me that time.”

The moment their lips met, John sighed. Mistake number three.

He was going to cave.

“What's the girls' plan?” he asked as soon as they pulled apart, sliding his arms around Bobby's waist.

“You date Clarice.”

John pushed Bobby away, shaking his head. “No FUCKING way.”

“John, at least listen to them.”

“First off, I don't even know who this Clarice person is. Secondly, I AM GAY. I am not dating a woman. Thirdly, I am not anybody's cover. Kitty is supposed to be cover for you. No fucking way am I going to be cover for Kitty. Not a chance.”

Bobby reached for John, but he backed up so Bobby couldn't touch him. “Clarice is Kitty's personal assistant. She's got a dedicated team around her that are fully aware of the fact that they're in a relationship. The girls just thought that if the photographers saw you and Clarice together, then it wouldn't be so weird for you to be seen with me. We would be seen to naturally know each other through your connection with Clarice. And it's not really dating, per say. You wouldn't actually date Clarice. You'd just be hanging out with her. You know, going to get coffee, showing up to some of Kitty's photo shoots to hang out with her, maybe volunteering at the new Manhattan Mutant Youth Center that's opening up next month. If all four of us go to that, and you make it look like you're there with Clarice, that could buy us a lot of time.”

“It could buy you a lot of time,” John said, his shoulders slumping. “I'm so sick of this, Bobby. I'm not sure it's worth it anymore. I'm not sure if any of this is worth it anymore.”

Bobby's eyes were suddenly terrified and he stepped closer to John and pulled him close. “John, please. You don't have to do what the girls came up with. Just don't leave me. Please.”

John let his forehead come to rest on Bobby's shoulder. “She's a mutant?”

“Yes,” Bobby said. “She's a teleporter, but not a normal one. She can teleport herself and others at will. Large masses of people even. She can open up portals and jump through them to a different place. It's really kind of cool. Oh, and you can call her Blink. Only Kitty gets to call her Clarice.”

“Bobby.”

“John, please. It would kill me to lose you. This month has been hell, and it's all my fault, and I know it is. But I'm not ready for everything that comes with sitting down with anyone and telling them the truth about my sexual orientation. I took such a risk the night I met you. I was sure it was going to be my downfall.”

John turned his head and pressed a kiss to the side of Bobby's neck. “You're not going to lose me,” he said after a moment. “And I will learn to be friends with Blink. But I unequivocally am not dating her.”

“Okay,” Bobby said, leaning his head against John's. “That's enough.”

“Bobby?”

“What?”

“Don't ever ask me to do something like this again, because next time, I won't be so nice.”

Bobby reached up and tilted John's face up to his, kissing him deeply. “I won't. I promise. Let's go talk to the girls, hm?”

And just like that, John knew it was a promise Bobby would never keep.


	4. Chapter 4

Bobby walked into his office to find Jean Grey standing there, admiring the new, large portrait of Kitty that he had commissioned for his office. "Ms. Grey. Exactly the person I want to see."

"Hello, Mr. Drake," Jean said, still looking at the portrait. "Is Ms. Pryde really halfway through the floor in this particular shot?"

Bobby looked at it for a moment, smiling. "Yes. They built a platform, decorated above and below it as though they were separate rooms of a house, she phased herself halfway through the floor, and then they photographed her from the end of the platform. It's really my favorite photo shoot Kitty has ever done. I like that they incorporated her extraordinary ability in to it."

Jean turned around as Bobby sat down behind his desk. "You and Ms. Pryde really are a shining example to the rest of the world about how humans and mutants can cooperate, live together in harmony, and love one another. It means a lot to us mutants to see that."

Bobby hesitated slightly, forcing himself to take a deep breath instead of correcting Jean about him being a human. "Yes, well, I just think I'm a lucky man to have her. Take a seat, Ms. Grey."

Jean walked over to the chairs before Bobby's desk and sat down in one. "I must admit, Mr. Drake, I've been very curious about why you asked me for a meeting. Account executives like me don't have meetings in the big office."

Bobby laughed at the description of his office. "I take it by now that you have heard Jason Wyngarde is retiring."

"Yes sir, Mastermind informed us all last month," Jean said, nodding.

"Ah, yes, Mastermind. I had forgotten that he went by that name on his floor." _No, I hadn't, I just shouldn't be using his mutant name when people think I'm human._ "Anyway, his departure means that there is an opening in that department. I considered hiring from outside the company, but then I decided to promote from within. That's where you come in, Ms. Grey."

Jean nodded. "You want me to form a committee to find you appropriate candidates for the job."

Bobby shook his head. "No, Ms. Grey, I want you to take the job. Executive Vice President of Commercial Properties. Your salary would triple, but you would also be required to make the occasional business trip to the other branches when it comes to big acquisitions. What do you say?"

Jean stared at him in shock. "I'm flattered, Mr. Drake, absolutely flattered that you would offer me this position. I don't know what to say."

Bobby smiled. "Say yes."

Jean nodded. "Yes. Of course. Thank you so much for this opportunity. I'm just flabbergasted that you think I'm the person for this job. I thought I'd made it as high as I was going to get within the company."

"You sell yourself short, Ms. Grey."

Jean started to speak but was interrupted by the door opening and Yuriko Oyama, Bobby's secretary came into the room. "I'm terribly sorry for interrupting Mr. Drake, but there is a Mr. Allerdyce outside and he is quite insistent upon seeing you immediately."

Bobby sighed. Of course John was making a spectacle of himself when Bobby had specifically told him not to. He glanced at his watch and noticed it was the time that he'd told John to show up. "Send him in, Yuriko."

Bobby stood up, so Jean stood up as well. "It's going to be a pleasure working more closely with you, Ms. Grey."

"The same, Mr. Drake," Jean said, reaching out to shake Bobby's hand.

Together they walked towards the door just as it opened and John walked into the room.

"John?" Jean asked, surprised to see him there.

John silently cursed under his breath. "Jean, it's wonderful to see you."

"I didn't know you knew Mr. Drake," Jean said, looking at him in confusion.

John glanced over at Bobby and Bobby immediately plastered a smile upon his face. "Mr. Allerdyce is my new personal assistant," he said quickly. "You two know each other?"

"I am in a relationship with Scott Summers, head of the security department." Jean turned to Bobby and smiled. "John is friends with Scott's younger brother Alex."

"Alex is working here with Scott now," John said quickly. "We're friends from high school. I've met Jean on a number of occasions at the Summers house. You've been dating Scott since high school, right Jean?"

"That's right," Jean said, looking at her phone when it suddenly beeped. "Oh, I have a meeting to attend. I'll talk to you later, Mr. Drake, and thank you once again for the opportunity. John, I'll probably see you this weekend."

John just nodded. "Probably."

Jean left the office and as soon as the door closed, John turned to Bobby with venom in his voice. "Your personal assistant? Do you have any idea how many people I'm going to have to lie to about that now?"

"I had to come up with some reason for you to be here, and I had to do it quickly," Bobby said in defense. "I had no idea that you and Jean would know each other. I had no idea that you had friends that worked here either. You should have told me that before I invited you here."

"Sorry I had no idea that I was supposed to relay every detail of my life to you," John said, his voice icy. "This was your idea, not mine. You know what we'd be doing if I had things my way."

Bobby turned around and walked back behind his desk. "You know why we can't."

"Yeah, because you're a scared son of a bitch that seems to forget that this country got over the fact that some people are gay a long time ago," John said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Honestly, Bobby, I'm wondering why I bother."

Bobby immediately walked over to John, pulling him close. "Don't say that. Please don't say that. I don't know what I'd do without you."

John forced his way out of Bobby's embrace and made his way over to the sofa. "You owe me so much, Drake. So, so much."

"I'll pay you for being my personal assistant," Bobby said. "As an employee of the company, you'll need to fill out some paperwork and undergo a drug test. But it'll just be formal. I won't make you actually be my personal assistant."

"How nice of you. And a fucking drug test?" John huffed. "Just for that, I'm smoking weed all weekend."

"John, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not."

Before another word could be said, the door to the office opened and Kitty came walking in, an exasperated Yuriko behind her. "I tried telling her you were in a meeting."

Bobby smiled. "It's alright, Yuriko."

Yuriko just nodded and left the office, and Kitty took off the gigantic hat she was wearing to walk over to Bobby and kiss him softly. "Hello darling."

John groaned. "Do you have to do that in front of me?"

Kitty turned to look at John and then sighed. "What idiotic thing has he done now?"

"I was coming to the end of a meeting with Jean Grey when he showed up and made a spectacle of himself, even though I specifically told him not to, and he and Jean know each other, and he's not supposed to know me, so I had to come up with something on the spot, and I said he was my new personal assistant." Bobby looked over at Kitty apologetically. "I told him I'm not going to make him actually be my personal assistant."

Kitty just shook her head and sat down on the sofa next to John. "He's an idiot, but a lovable idiot. Surely you can forgive him for this?"

"I now have to lie to so many people about having somehow gotten myself a job working for Bobby Drake that every single one of them is going to know I'm not qualified for. I never went to college and you have to have a Bachelors just to work in the mail room. Now I'm suddenly his assistant? My friends think I do medical billing for a group of doctors in Gravesend so that I have money," John said, sighing heavily. "I'm getting sick of lying about every fucking thing in the world. I can't even be myself with my friends!"

Kitty pondered that for a moment. "I'm with John on this one," she said, much to Bobby's dismay. "You can't expect him to lie to everyone forever just because you want to hide who you truly are."

Bobby did not miss the glance Kitty made to her portrait on the wall. She was the only person on the planet that knew he was a mutant too. "Kitty."

"Come on, John. Let's go get some ridiculously expensive coffee with Clarice," Kitty said, standing up and putting her hat back on.

John stared at Bobby for a moment before standing up and following Kitty. They walked out of the office and Kitty turned and winked at him. "Just wait until you meet Clarice, John. You two are going to get along splendidly. And you'll have each other to complain to about me and Bobby."

John noticed how most of the floor was staring at them, bit his lip, then played along. "Can't wait to meet her. I need someone to complain to about Drake already."

Kitty laughed all the way to the elevator.


	5. Chapter 5

The knocking on the door got louder and louder as Marie made her way over to it, finally ceasing when she opened it. "What the hell is the urgency?"

"Your rent is three months late," came a husky voice, and Marie looked up into the eyes of Logan, their landlord.

"Logan, I can explain," Marie started, but Logan just shook his head.

"Three months, Rogue," Logan stated again. "I can't let it go any further than this."

Marie swallowed hard and leaned against the door frame. "Can you give me till tomorrow?"

Logan sighed, his posture relaxing, before nodding. "Noon tomorrow. And I expect all of it, Rogue."

Marie just nodded as Logan turned and walked away, closing the door behind her and leaning up against it. Logan had been sympathetic for awhile, but it was clear that his sympathy had run out. It was hard living on just her paycheck from the corner store ever since Remy had been laid off, and it didn't help that he took a significant portion of their savings and went and played poker with it every Friday night. Now she had twenty-four hours to somehow come up with thirty-three hundred dollars that she knew they didn't have.

Fuck.

She thought about calling Remy and asking him what to do, but Remy was out job hunting and she didn't want to disturb him. She dismissed the idea of asking any of their friends if they could borrow money immediately, because they were all just barely getting by too, except for John, but she didn't want to be in John's debt.

She started to think about going to one of those advanced payday cash places and agreeing to sign over her next paycheck for the six hundred dollars that it would be now, but that would still leave them twenty-seven hundred dollars short, plus out the six hundred dollars next week which they would need for groceries and utilities.

Her parents weren't an option, and neither were Remy's. Her parents had cast her out when she told them that she was a mutant, and Remy's parents were surviving on less money than they were.

Suddenly, she remembered a place that could maybe help them out, and she pushed away from the door, grabbed her purse and her keys, and then dashed out. She left their building and then went to the nearest station, getting on a train bound for the East Village. Once there, she got off and headed towards the offices of the Xavier Foundation for Mutant Rights.

Remy had always hesitated about going to the foundation for help before because he was certain it was set up just to swindle mutants out of their hard earned cash, but Marie didn't quite agree with him and she was desperate. She walked into the office and found a teenager with shoulder-length silver hair sitting there, spinning around in a chair behind the front desk. He didn't seem to notice her, so Marie coughed gently to get his attention, and then before she blinked, he was standing at her side.

"Someone! Finally! I was getting so bored," he said, smiling at her before coughing and letting his voice take a more serious tone. "Welcome to the Xavier Foundation for Mutant Rights, where we strive to help all mutants in all walks of life, every possible situation, blah blah blah. I'm Quicksilver, how may I help you?"

"Well, Peter, that was better than the last time," came a voice from behind them, and Marie looked over to see a man in a wheelchair. "Still, it needs work."

"You need an actual receptionist, Charles," Peter said, back behind the desk before Marie could register that he'd moved. "I'm just the fill in."

"Talk to your father about that," Charles said, wheeling himself out from behind the desk. "Hello, dear. I'm Charles Xavier. Would you like to go into my office and talk?"

Marie just nodded and Charles smiled at her. "Nothing to fear, my dear. It's just an office."

"How did you..." Marie trailed off.

"He's a telepath," Peter said quickly. "He knows everything."

Charles shot a glare in Peter's direction. "Have you finished reading _The King and I_ yet? I suggest you do so before your father finds out."

Peter huffed and suddenly the book was in his hands. "Fine."

Charles turned back to Marie. "This way, my dear."

Marie followed Charles into an office and took a seat in one of the armchairs that were in front of his desk. The room had a real seventies vibe about it and Charles noticed her looking around. "The seventies is my favorite decade," he explained. "If you were in Erik's office, you'd find yourself in the eighties."

Marie smiled as Charles situated himself behind the desk. "It's cool. My landlord's a seventies kind of guy too, or at least he dresses like one."

"Your landlord is the reason you're here, is he not?" Charles asked, and Marie nodded.

"We are three months behind on rent. He wants it by noon tomorrow. We don't have it. I don't know what to do. I thought maybe you'd know of some sort of place I could go for help."

"You're in a place that can help," Charles said, opening a drawer and searching for something. "What's your name, dear?"

"Marie," she answered, and Charles glanced up at her. 

"What's your real name, Marie?"

Marie stared at him for a moment before realizing what he was asking. "Oh, my mutant name? Rogue. Not too many people call me that though."

"We deal in mutant names around here, though if you prefer Marie, then Marie it will be."

Marie shook her head. "Rogue is fine."

"Excellent," Charles said, pulling a form out of his drawer. "Rogue, we have a monthly rent assistance program that I think will be the best for you. We will provide the money you owe now for rent and then pay your rent every month until you're capable of paying for it on your own."

Marie's jaw dropped. "Seriously?"

"We are here to help mutants in need," Charles said, sliding the paper and a pen across his desk. "All you need to do is fill this out."

"You're just going to give me money? I don't have to do anythin' for it?"

"Precisely," Charles said. "And there will be no need for you to ever pay it back either."

Marie stared at Charles for a long time. Before she could say another word, a voice came drifting in from the doorway. "Did you stun another one into silence, love?"

Marie turned and looked at the man in the doorway as Charles laughed. "Erik, it's not my fault people are surprised by our services. There is so much propaganda out there that tries to discredit us."

The man, Erik, walked into the room and held out his hand to Marie. "Hello, I'm Magneto. I hope the Professor here hasn't stunned you into permanent silence."

"No, he hasn't," Marie said, shaking his hand. "Rogue. It's nice to meet ya, Magneto."

"Erik, your son is rearranging your office again and your daughter is upstairs sulking because her boyfriend hasn't called."

Erik just shook his head and sighed. "I'll take Peter, you take Wanda?"

"I have an appointment after I'm done with Rogue," Charles said. "A warning. Wanda thinks you don't like him."

"That's because I don't," Erik said, turning around and walking out of the office.

Charles just sighed and turned back to Marie. "Sorry about that. Family matters. It happens when the whole family is so involved in the foundation."

Marie noticed the shiny ring on Charles's finger and smiled. "Magneto is your husband?"

"Five years next month," Charles said, smiling. "Peter and Wanda are his children from a previous relationship, but the four of us are quite a tight family unit. Well, six of us if you count my sister and her son, which we often do."

"Are you all mutants?" Marie asked, then quickly put up her hand in apology. "I'm sorry, it's not really my place to be askin' these things."

"It's perfectly fine, Rogue," Charles said. “Yes, we're all mutants. Not that we would cast anyone out if they weren't. We believe in full cooperation between humanity and mutanity here. Well, at least most of us do. Erik wavers sometimes, but he's seen the worst of humanity, so I don't exactly blame him.”

“He's seen the worst?”

“Erik is a former FBI agent. He's seen a lot of grisly, horrible things in his life,” Charles sighed. “Anyway, how about you fill out the form, dear, and then I'll get you a check.”

Marie nodded and reached towards the form, beginning to fill it out as Charles excused himself and wheeled out of the office. He made his way to the entrance and smiled as he took in the man standing there. “Pyro. Wonderful, you're on time today.”

John looked over at Charles and smiled. “Yeah, Professor, I have no idea how that happened.”

They both laughed, and then Charles turned back towards his office. “Come on. I'm just finishing up with a mutant and then we can get our session underway.”

John followed along and, when he walked into Charles's office, he was surprised to find Marie there. “Marie?”

“Johnny boy!” Marie exclaimed, standing up suddenly. “Don't tell Remy. I was desperate.”

John just shook his head. “Calm down, I'm not telling Remy anything. And desperate for what?”

“Logan came around wantin' rent again,” Marie said. “We had most of it till Remy went and played poker last Friday. Left with two thousand, came home with two hundred. I about took my gloves off.”

John laughed, knowing how often Marie used that threat to get Remy to do what she wanted. “He had a really bad night if he lost that much.”

“You have no idea. I've been hearin' about it all week.”

“So you two know each other?” Charles asked from behind his desk.

“She's living with my best friend,” John said, walking over and collapsing into the other armchair that was in front of Charles's desk. “Marie's a wonderful person. She managed to tame Remy.”

Marie laughed as she sat back down. “I don't think I've quite done that.”

“He found a job yet?” John asked, sighing when Marie shook her head no. “Tell him to call me. I may be able to help with that.”

“We also assist mutants who are looking for work,” Charles said. “You could bring him here and we could discuss his options.”

Marie set the form back on Charles's desk and sighed. “That would be nice, but he has a lot of issues with this place. He thinks you're just out to swindle mutants out of their money. Which is why I'm tellin' Remy this money came from you, Johnny boy.”

“Fine with me,” John said. “And I'll work on Remy.”

Charles picked up the paperwork and glanced through it. “Alright, Rogue, I'll have you take this form to Storm and she'll get you the money you need. Her office is just to the left of mine here. Just knock on the door and go on in.”

“Thank you so much, Charles,” Marie said. “You've literally just saved my life.”

Charles smiled at her. “That's what we're here for. And please call me the Professor. Everyone else does.”

Marie nodded and turned towards John, leaning over and brushing a kiss along his hair. “Remember, Johnny boy, not a word to Remy.”

“Swear it,” John said, putting a hand on his heart. “And close the door behind you, would you?”

Marie smiled at him and stood up, leaving the office and closing the door. John slumped down into the chair the moment she left and Charles viewed him with some concern.

“I'm getting very worried about you, Pyro. You're not yourself.”

John sighed. “I'll be honest, Professor, I'm not sure I know who that is anymore.”

“Well,” Charles sighed, “where would you like to start today?”

John ran his hands over his face and sighed. “Look, let's be honest here for a minute. You know who I'm in a relationship with, don't you?”

Charles stayed quiet for a moment before nodding. “Yes. You tend to think about him loudly during our sessions.”

“Then you'll understand when I say I'm starting to wonder why I bother anymore.”

“Pyro, you've been wondering that for a long time,” Charles said. “You're just starting to realize it. How about we start with your most recent meeting with your boyfriend and go from there?”

John slumped further down in the chair, ran his hands over his face, and started talking about what happened when he'd shown up at the headquarters of Drake Incorporated the day before. It felt good to get it out. That's why he'd started to have these therapy sessions with Charles to begin with.

He needed to tell someone about Bobby. All about Bobby. And Charles didn't judge him.

It was nice to have an hour a week where he didn't have to hide something.


	6. Chapter 6

The Manhattan Mutant Youth Center was the jewel in Raven Darkholme's crown. She'd established several mutant youth charities and offices around the state of New York, but the Manhattan Mutant Youth Center was the culmination of a lifelong dream and a lot of hard work. She was standing outside the building watching as the sign was put into place when she felt a tugging at her hand.

“What is it, darling?” she asked, looking down at her five-year-old son Kurt. Kurt was a beautiful mutant, blue like her, but a teleporter with a tail like his father. If it weren't for how much she despised Azazel for leaving them in the middle of the night nearly two years ago, she'd say Kurt was the perfect combination of the two of them. Instead, she was trying to teach all of Azazel's habits that Kurt had picked up on right out of the boy.

“Uncle Charles is here,” Kurt said, pointing down the sidewalk.

Raven looked in the direction he was pointing and saw the collective Xavier-Lehnsherr family walking towards them, or in Charles's case, wheeling. Peter looked like he was going insane for having to walk so slowly, and Wanda's hair was a bright shade of red instead of her normal brown. Erik was talking about something and Charles was laughing, but the two sixteen-year-olds looked bored out of their minds.

Raven crouched down next to Kurt and smiled at him. “How about you go surprise Peter, hm?”

Kurt gave her a toothy grin and then disappeared, reappearing a moment later on Peter's back. An instant smile spread across Peter's face, and Wanda suddenly looked interested in what was happening. Raven stood up and smiled, then turned back to where the sign was almost in place. A few moments later, she heard the whirring of Charles's wheelchair come to a stop next to her.

“Thank you for that. The children were almost insufferable.”

“Not a problem,” Raven said, looking over at him. “Thanks for coming.”

“Well, I did want a private tour of the center before it opened, so thanks for inviting us,” Charles said, smiling at her. “Erik does have some questions about the security though.”

“Of course he does,” Raven said, jumping when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked only to find Erik right behind her, Kurt bouncing in his arms. “You don't have to scare me.”

“And you shouldn't be standing in front of a mutant youth center looking like the latest dumb blonde who has posed for _Playboy_ ,” Erik said seriously. “You're a mutant, Mystique, and you're beautiful. How are you ever going to teach the youth of this city to be comfortable with themselves if you won't even be yourself here?”

“Erik, honestly,” Charles said, but Raven just shook her head.

“No, Charles, he's right,” Raven said, taking a deep breath. “I have a very important investor coming for a private tour, Magneto. He's not entirely comfortable with me in my natural form, and therefore I look like this for him.”

“If he cannot handle you in your natural form, you shouldn't be taking his money for a mutant youth center,” Erik said firmly, and Kurt disappeared from his arms and reappeared next to Wanda. “Who is so fucking important that you can't be yourself?”

“Bobby Drake,” Raven said, and Charles sighed heavily. “What?”

“Bobby Drake is a huge friend to mutants,” Charles said. “He's in a very high profile relationship with the first mutant supermodel, he is renowned for employing mutants at every level of his company, and I happen to know that his new personal assistant is a mutant.”

“Yes, and the first time we met, he asked me why I wasn't wearing any clothes,” Raven said. “Hence the looking like a dumb blonde from _Playboy_ , as your husband so eloquently put it, though I'd be curious to know why he knows what the girls in _Playboy_ look like.”

“Peter,” Erik said, shaking his head. “He's been stealing them from the newsstand down the street. He hides them under his bed but I caught him with one once.”

“He's stealing again?” Charles said, glancing in Peter's direction. “Do we need to have another talk?”

“Probably,” Erik said, looking over at the children.

“And you need to start speaking to Wanda again.”

“Her hair is red, Charles.”

Raven stifled a laugh when she realized that Wanda had dyed it without permission. Charles just smiled. “It's dye, Erik. It will come out.”

“Not soon enough for my liking,” Erik grumbled, glancing behind him as a black car pulled up.

“Oh! That's Mr. Drake,” Raven said, smoothing down her skirt and walking over to the car as the door opened and Bobby stepped out of it. “Mr. Drake, it's wonderful to see you again.”

Bobby smiled and stepped forward, holding out his hand and shaking Raven's. “Ms. Darkholme, you're looking lovely today.”

“Not as lovely as she would look in her natural form!” Erik called out, and Raven shot him a glare.

“Please excuse my brother-in-law's rudeness.”

“For what it's worth, I agree with Magneto,” came another voice, and Raven turned to see another man standing there, dressed considerably more casually than Bobby.

“And you would be?” Raven asked.

“This is John Allerdyce, my personal assistant,” Bobby said, motioning to him. “John, this is Raven Darkholme. She's the one who has put the Manhattan Mutant Youth Center together.”

John shook Raven's hand when she held it out. “Pyro. Call me Pyro.”

Bobby gave him a confused look, but John just walked away from them and over to Charles and Erik. “Professor, Magneto. Wasn't expecting to see you here. Wasn't expecting Drake's business partner to be Mystique either.”

“Raven has been trying to make this center a reality for a long time,” Charles said, smiling at him. _Pyro, have things improved between you?_

John sighed as he heard Charles's voice in his head, and then just shook it. “Not at all.”

“Charles, mental conversations is cheating,” Erik said playfully.

“It's necessary in this case, Erik,” Charles said, looking at John again. _He's going to want me to explain that later._

John nodded. “You can tell him. I trust him.”

Charles nodded, and then looked up as Raven and Bobby came over to them. “Ah, Mr. Drake, I don't believe we've ever been introduced. Charles Xavier.”

Bobby took Charles's outstretched hand and shook it. “Dr. Xavier. It's a pleasure to meet you. Kitty is a huge fan of your research. I think she enjoys reading the books about mutant genetics that you write more than the newest romance novels.”

Charles laughed and motioned to Erik. “This is my husband, Erik Lehnsherr.”

“Magneto,” Erik corrected. “No one calls me Erik but Charles.”

Bobby nodded. “Magneto it is then. You two know John?”

“Pyro has come into the foundation offices before,” Charles said, thankful to be interrupted by the sudden appearance of both Peter and Kurt.

“Alright, who got here first?” Peter said, staring at Charles.

“It's a tie,” Charles said, making them both groan.

“Come on, Charles, give us an actual answer,” Peter whined.

“Please, Uncle Charles,” Kurt added, but Charles just shook his head.

“I'm sorry, children, but you're just going to have to understand that you each are as quick as the other.” Charles had been through this many times before.

“Can we go inside yet?” Wanda called out. “I'm about ready to shoot myself.”

“Wanda, do not talk about yourself like that!” Erik yelled out, turning to Raven. “You have approximately thirty seconds before we lose her to her phone.”

Raven just smiled. “Then I say we go inside. Right this way.”

Bobby and John let everyone go inside before them, and John held Bobby back briefly. “You ever going to tell me the real reason this mutant youth center is so important to you?”

“I told you, it's for Kitty's sake. And yours.”

“No, Bobby,” John said, shaking his head. “This has nothing to do with me.”

Bobby closed his hand into a fist, releasing it suddenly as he realized his hand was growing cold. “Kitty had nowhere like this to go. She needed somewhere like this. And I suspect you did too.”

John just sighed and walked into the building, Bobby following behind.

Charles was studying them closely. He already knew what Bobby Drake was hiding from the world thanks to John's therapy sessions, but now he knew something that he was certain John didn't even know.

Bobby Drake was a mutant.

“Charles,” Erik hissed, drawing Charles's attention away from Bobby and John. “You're staring.”

“I'm sorry, darling,” Charles whispered. “I just discovered the most interesting of things. I'll tell you about it later.”


	7. Chapter 7

John was sitting in the backyard of the Summers house, drinking beer with Alex, Darwin, and Scott, when suddenly Remy came bursting through the door and into the yard. “I GOT A JOB!”

The four of them cheered and raised their beers in salute as Remy took a bow, making everyone laugh. 

“So who the fuck finally hired you?” Alex called out, yelping when Darwin reached out and kicked him. “What?”

“That is not how you ask what his new job is,” Darwin said, making Alex shake his head.

“I agree with Armando,” Scott said, looking at Alex. “You need to learn to be more polite, especially if you ever want to be stationed somewhere besides the parking garage.”

Alex huffed and took a long sip of his beer. “Fine. What are you going to be doing, Remy? Was that better?”

“Much,” Darwin said, waving Remy over and tossing him a beer from the box in front of him. “So, Remy, let's hear all about it, man.”

Remy grabbed the beer and dropped down into the empty seat next to John, grinning as he opened the bottle. “I got a job as a mechanic at this auto shop in Stuyvesant Heights. The commute is going to be hell, but I'll be making thirty-five dollars an hour, so it's worth it.”

“Thirty-five dollars an hour?” Alex whistled. “I should have paid more attention in auto shop and on those ridiculously long afternoons we spent watching you work on your car.”

Remy clutched his hand to his heart. “Ah, please don't remind me of Nola. It's still painful that we had to part.”

“You needed an apartment more than that car,” John pointed out, taking a long sip of his beer. “And thirty-five dollars an hour is awesome, man. You'll have that ring for Marie in no time.”

“Shh,” Remy shushed, glaring at John. “The windows are open. She'll hear you.”

John just rolled his eyes. “If you think she doesn't know you're waiting to buy her that ring, you're insane.”

“Is Marie helping Jean and Mama with the cake?” Scott asked. 

“Yeah,” Remy said, nodding. “You know how much she likes cookin' and bakin'.”

Darwin polished off his beer and sat up, clearing his throat. “Well, gentlemen, now that we are all here together, I have an announcement.”

“What the fuck could you be announcing?” Alex asked. “You're so boringly predictable, Darwin.”

Darwin just rolled his eyes. “I'm done with the legal assistant shit. So, I have been accepted into Columbia Law School,” he said, grinning. “It's going to be a fuckload of work, but once I'm done and I pass the exams, I will be a full-fledged lawyer specializing in mutant rights.”

Another round of cheers went up. John grinned at him. “Mutant rights, huh?”

“Yes,” Darwin said, reaching for another beer. “I've gotten a scholarship from the Xavier Foundation to help me pay for the costs.”

“Nice,” Scott said. “The Xavier Foundation does good stuff.”

“The Xavier Foundation takes mutants' money and uses it for bullshit,” Remy said, shaking his head. “Just wait till you're left high and dry on that scholarship, Darwin.”

John sighed and reached over to slap the back of Remy's head. “When are you going to stop believing the stupid propaganda and realize that there are not two people more dedicated to mutant rights than the Professor and Magneto?”

“Um, maybe when I know they're actually doin' some good for someone I trust,” Remy said, reaching up to rub the back of his head. “I don't know anybody who has gone there and gotten what they wanted out of them.”

“I do,” came Marie's voice, and they all turned to look at her. “Who do you think has been payin' our rent, Remy?”

“John has been,” Remy said.

“Nope,” John responded, taking another sip of his drink.

Remy turned around fully to face Marie. “You went to Xavier's for our rent?”

“I was desperate! Logan came around wantin' all the rent money we owed and we didn't have shit to give him! I only went there 'cause I thought they could tell me a place I could go that would help me out and then the Professor told me that they could help me out. They gave me the thirty-three hundred dollars we owed Logan and they're the ones who have been paying our rent for the last two months.”

“Marie!” Remy exclaimed. “You shoulda told me!”

“And have an argument? No way. I was just glad that you weren't out gamblin' away our rent money, like you did right before Logan came 'round wantin' it!”

“Okay, okay,” John said, holding his hands up and drawing their attention to him. “Look, your rent has been paid for the last five months now, which is the most important thing. It's a temporary thing, which means as soon as you can pay for your rent again, it ends. Marie was desperate, and if I was in her situation, I would have been too. But you don't have to be desperate to go to Xavier's. They really do want to help, Remy.”

“And how the fuck do you know all of this, hm? You're so sure that Xavier's are good guys. Why is that?”

John polished off his beer and tossed the empty bottle into the trash. “I go to therapy there every week.” Everyone fell silent, and John just reached for another beer. “What? You all can't be surprised that me of all people needs fucking therapy.”

“Johnny boy,” Marie said, coming closer to them and putting her hand on John's shoulder. “You know you can talk to us about anything.”

“Except I can't,” John said seriously. “I don't want you all to know about my adventures in the foster care system, the abuse I took once they realized I was a mutant, the rejection, the horror, the shame. And I need someone to talk to about the boyfriend. The Professor gives me that.”

Everyone fell silent as John's past was mentioned, because they all knew that John never, ever, mentioned his past. Alex was the one who eventually broke the silence. “So you need a bit of therapy? So what? Doesn't matter to me.”

John tipped his bottle in Alex's direction and then took a long drink from it. “Shouldn't matter to any of you. It's not your life.”

“Oh Johnny boy,” Marie said, bending down and brushing a kiss along his hair. “Whatever you need to be happy, darlin'. That's all that's important.”

“Yeah,” Remy said, smiling at him. “I'm still not happy about you gettin' help from Xavier's, Marie.”

“Deal with it,” Marie said, turning back towards the house. “Things ever get bad again, I'm goin' back.”

Remy opened his mouth but closed it as soon as the door shut behind Marie, turning to them. “This is one of those times when I just let her be right, right?”

“Yes,” Scott said, nodding. “Trust me, it's always in your best interested to just let her be right.”

Alex and Darwin burst out laughing. “Speaking from experience there bro?” Alex asked.

“Something like that,” Scott said, adjusting his glasses. “Let's get back to the topic of Darwin going to law school, shall we?”

“Yes,” Darwin said, beaming. “Xavier's already offered me a job at the foundation for after I graduate.”

“Am I the only one who thinks Xavier's is bullshit?” Remy asked.

“Yes,” everyone else said.

Remy sighed and took a long drink. “I'm gonna have to change my mind about 'em, aren't I?”

“Most likely,” John said, sighing when his phone went off. “Excuse me, the boss is calling.”

“I still wanna know how you got that job!” Remy called out as John stood up and walked towards the house. “You're perfectly fine doin' medical billing, now all of the sudden you're Bobby Drake's assistant? Doesn't make sense, Pyro!”

“Shut the fuck up, Gambit!” John yelled back, walking inside the house and going straight through it until he was sitting on the front steps. He answered the call and brought the phone up to his ear. “Drake.”

“Hi,” came Bobby's voice. “What are you doing?”

“The same thing I do every Saturday,” John said. “Why?”

Bobby coughed. “I need you to go to this society business thing with me tonight.”

John almost dropped the phone. “Excuse me?”

“Kitty is going too,” Bobby stressed. “She will be my date. You will be my personal assistant.”

John took five deep breaths to calm himself before he answered. “I was promised that I didn't have to actually be your personal assistant.”

“You went with me to the youth center.”

“Because I wanted to see the youth center,” John said. “I am not changing my weekend plans to go be your fucking personal assistant at some society business meeting or whatever the fuck it is you're talking about. Take Yuriko.”

“John, please.”

“No, Bobby. What part of no do you not understand?”

Bobby sighed into the phone. “You can spend the whole night hanging out with Blink.”

“Look, Blink is a lovely girl, really, but I do not want to spend my time with her. I want to spend my time with you, you closeted son of a bitch. And you know what, Bobby? I'm fucking sick and tired of not being able to do that. You and I have spent one night together in the last three months, and that's not enough. If you can't make time for me, then I'm not going to make time for you.”

“John...”

“Figure out who the fuck you are, Drake. You're either mine or you're the image you've crafted. But you can't be both anymore.” John pulled the phone away from his ear and ended the call, then set it aside and ran his hands over his face.

He jumped a moment later when he felt a hand curl around his shoulder but he gave Marie a small smile as soon as she sat down next to him. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” she said, linking her gloved hand with John's. “You okay?”

“I don't know,” John said honestly.

Marie squeezed his hand. “Well, at least I understand now why you buy all those trashy magazines. Checkin' up on your boyfriend.”

John laughed hollowly. “Don't tell anyone, will ya? Especially about that.”

“Don't worry. I'll never tell a soul that you like buyin' _US Weekly_ ,” Marie said, leaning her head onto John's shoulder. “Look, Johnny boy, I know that I don't know nothin' 'bout you two and your relationship, but maybe you oughta ask yourself if it's worth it. I mean, I love Remy more than life itself, but to have to hide that love for as long as you've been hidin' this? I don't know if I could keep it up. I don't know how you've been doin' it, darlin'.”

“When I'm with him, it makes sense,” John said after a few moments. “It just feels like we belong together, like we balance each other out, like we're two sides of the same coin. But then when the rest of the world invades, he gets scared and hides and we have to be a secret and he had to fucking lie to Jean about why I was there, hence the whole personal assistant thing, and I'm just so tired of it, Marie. But I'm only still doing it because when it's just him and me, everything in the world is better.”

Marie squeezed his hand again. “Do you think you're ever goin' to get a chance to just be the two of you?”

“I don't know, Marie,” John said, blinking. There was no fucking way he was going to cry over Bobby Drake. “I used to, but now...I feel like he only makes me empty promises. I don't even know if he loves me.”

“Oh Johnny boy,” Marie said, running a gloved hand along his face. “You're in so deep that I think you can't see the top and you don't know where the bottom is.”

“Maybe,” John said morosely. “I think I'm a hell of a lot closer to rock bottom than I am to the prize at the top.”

“Perhaps, perhaps,” Marie said, turning and brushing a kiss along his clothed shoulder. “Maybe you just need to take some time to learn to swim.”

Marie let go of John's hand and stood up. “There's cake if you want some. It's extra sugary and sweet 'cause we're celebrating Remy's job.”

“I'll be in in a few,” John said, running his hands over his face again as Marie slipped back into the house. He reached towards his phone and read the few text messages that Bobby had sent him since the end of their phone call, and then quickly typed out a message back.

_It's okay. I love you. I'm just frustrated. I just want you, Bobby. Is that too much to ask for?_

He stared at it for several moments before pressing send, then turned his phone off and shoved it back into his pocket. Everyone he wanted to hear from at that moment was at the Summers house. He had no need for his phone.


	8. Chapter 8

Bobby grabbed a champagne flute off a passing waiter's tray, quickly taking a sip of it. Kitty was standing next to him in a gorgeous dress, he was in a gallery surrounded by amazing art that he knew he was going to buy a piece or two of by the end of the night, and he had all the champagne he could want. 

So why was he feeling like shit?

Kitty sighed beside him and linked her arm through his, leaning close to him. “Excuse yourself outside and call him again.”

“He turned his phone off,” Bobby hissed back, prompting another sigh from Kitty.

“Did he say where he was?” she asked softly.

“Same place he is every Saturday.”

“And that would be?”

Bobby stared at Kitty for a few moments before he realized he didn't know the answer to that question. “I don't know.”

“Bobby! Kitty!”

They both looked up to see Warren Worthington III walking their way, a beautiful woman with long, purple hair on his arm. 

“Psylocke!” Kitty exclaimed, leaning forward to exchange cheek kisses with her. “I didn't know you knew Warren.”

“Warren is my fiancé,” the woman said, turning her attention to Bobby. “And this must be yours.”

“Yes,” Kitty said, linking her arm with Bobby's once more. “This is Bobby Drake. Bobby, Betsy Braddock or Psylocke. She's another mutant model.”

“Lovely to meet you, Betsy.”

“Psylocke,” Betsy corrected him.

“Psylocke, then,” Bobby said, holding out his hand to Warren. “Warren.”

Warren reached out and shook Bobby's hand. “Bobby. Looks like we both lucked out in the fiancée department. I must say, Kitty, you are even more stunning in person than in the photos I've seen of you.”

Kitty blushed and tried to laugh it off. “Oh Warren, such a charmer.”

“I mean every word,” Warren said, bringing Betsy's hand up for him to kiss. “But my favorite mutant model is this wonderful woman by my side.”

“Psylocke, how about we go do a tour of the room?” Kitty asked, smiling when Betsy nodded in agreement. “Talk business, boys.”

Bobby and Warren watched as the girls walked away before turning back to each other. “My father was saying just the other day about how he was wanting to speak to you,” Warren said, grabbing a champagne flute of his own from another passing waiter. “I believe he's looking for investors in his new research.”

“And what is he researching now?” Bobby asked, taking a small sip of his drink.

Warren leaned in close and lowered his voice. “A cure.”

“For cancer?” Bobby asked, hopeful that Warren was not trying to imply what he thought Warren was trying to imply.

“No,” Warren said. “A cure for mutants. I've been arguing about it with him for ages but he's going forward with the research. He doesn't seem to care about his son.”

A look of confusion crossed Bobby's face. Warren wasn't a... “I'm sorry?”

“Psylocke,” Warren said quickly. “Betsy. He doesn't seem to care how happy she makes me. He only seems to care about how to cure her.”

“There's nothing to cure,” Bobby said, and Warren nodded.

“I completely agree. I mean, we have two beautiful women who are both mutants. Who is my father to tell them that they need cured?”

Bobby took a larger sip of his drink. “Has your father gotten very far with the research?”

“Yes,” Warren said, leaning in close again. “He's using the DNA of a mutant that disables other mutants' powers to make the cure. I think it's horrible. The mutant is just a child. But apparently everything is fine with FDA regulations. They need to change the regulations if that's the case.”

“A child?” Bobby asked, concern in his voice. “He's using a child to create this cure?”

“Yes,” Warren said, “but keep that quiet, will you? Not even Betsy knows about that one.”

Bobby just nodded. “My lips are sealed. But I'm not interested in funding your father's research. Not on this topic, at least.”

“I didn't think so,” Warren said, sipping his champagne. “I tried telling my father that but he'll probably want to hear it from you.”

“Well, have him call me on Monday,” Bobby said, feeling his phone vibrating in his pocket. “Excuse me, Warren. Phone call.”

“I understand,” Warren said, walking away as Bobby pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

He took one look at the number before answering it immediately. “Hi.”

“I spent all afternoon lying about you, you know that?”

“John, please, I'm at...”

“I don't care where you're at,” John said forcefully. “I sat around with my best friends in the world today, Bobby, and I lied to each and every one of them about you. For what it's worth, if I happen to ever come up in conversation between you and Jean again, I am an old school friend of your college roommate Cain Marko's and we met at his funeral and I got the job that way.”

“How did you know Cain Marko was my college roommate?”

“Wikipedia,” John answered. “Now listen to me. I'm a little drunk, and that makes me just stupid enough to want to see you after the shit you pulled this afternoon, so when you're done with your fancy schmancy thing, get over here so we can fuck. It's been too long, and I don't want to go all the way to Manhattan since I'm about half a beer away from passing out. Got it?”

“John,” Bobby started, but the phone went dead. He stared at it for a few minutes before tucking it back into his pocket and looking around the room. 

Kitty and Psylocke were posing for pictures together in front of the painting that Kitty had already identified as her favorite, Warren had moved on to talking to someone else, and for the moment, no one seemed like they were paying any attention to Bobby. He could pay for the painting, slip out of the door and into a taxi, be in Gravesend at John's apartment in maybe an hour. He'd text Kitty where he was going, and otherwise, no one would notice he would be gone.

Then a hand clamped down on his left shoulder and that plan went out the window. 

“Mr. Drake, how often I seem to find you standing alone at these events,” came the voice of Sebastian Shaw. “Don't you understand how you're supposed to circle the room, make business contacts, maybe close a deal or two?”

Bobby reached up and took Sebastian's hand off of his shoulder, turning to face the man he despised. “Sebastian. I didn't think you had the social stature to attend an event like this. After all, you're still dealing with the fallout of the departure of Miss Frost, are you not?”

Sebastian gave him a thunderous look. “Hellfire does not need Emma Frost,” he practically spit out. “And my social stature has not been affected at all.”

“That's not what I heard,” Bobby said, stopping a passing waiter to exchange his empty champagne flute for a new one. 

“Then you obviously haven't heard of my hiring of Jason Wyngarde,” Sebastian said, smirk on his face. “Mastermind was very much interested in what I had to offer him after he found out you were replacing him with a junior level executive.”

Bobby brought the champagne to his lips to keep from saying something he really, really shouldn't. “It's not my problem that Jason couldn't see the value in his own employees. I find his replacement to not only be fully capable of performing her job, she's brought a refreshing perspective to it, and has landed more deals in her first few weeks than Jason did in his last six months.”

Sebastian's smirk did not falter. “You have too many skeletons in your closet, Mr. Drake. Do not assume that only Miss Pryde knows of them.”

Bobby froze as Sebastian walked away, and before he knew it, he'd frozen the champagne in his flute solid. He carefully looked around before setting the frozen glass on the floor, then walked quickly to where Kitty was entertaining the attentions of several high society men. “Darling?” he asked when he got close enough.

“Yes, Bobby?” Kitty answered before looking over at him. Once she did, she shooed the men away. “Give me some time with my fiancé, will you all?”

Once they were alone, Kitty took Bobby's cold hands into her own and squeezed them. “Whatever it is, it's okay.”

“Have you picked out the paintings you want?”

“Yes.”

“Arrange to have them bought then go home,” Bobby said. “I'm going to Brooklyn.”

Kitty stared at him for a moment before looking in Sebastian's direction, seeing how he was smirking at Bobby. “If that's what you want to do.”

“I'll tell you about it later,” Bobby said, leaning forward and kissing Kitty softly. “Pick one out for Blink too, okay? My birthday present for her.”

Kitty's eyes lit up. “I can do that, Mr. Drake. Have fun in Brooklyn.”

“I hopefully will,” Bobby said. “You have fun in Queens, Miss Pryde.”

Kitty just smiled at him and walked away. Bobby slowly made his way towards the exit, making sure that Sebastian had lost his view of him before slipping outside and into a taxi. He rattled off the address of John's building, and the cab driver gave him a strange look.

“Gravesend, Brooklyn, Mr. Drake?”

“I need to see my personal assistant,” Bobby said tiredly. “That's where he is.”

“If you say so, sir.”

Bobby settled into the seat for the ride, reaching up to undo his tie halfway through the trip. He stared out the window as the lights of Manhattan faded away and soon he was in the neighborhood of Gravesend. He climbed out of the taxi once it stopped and then handed a wad of cash to the driver before walking up to John's building. He thought he'd need someone to buzz him in, but someone was leaving just as he was arriving, so he slipped in mostly unnoticed. He took the stairs up to John's floor and then walked down the hallway to his apartment, shaking his head when he realized John's door wasn't fully closed.

He carefully opened the door and went inside, closing and locking it behind him. He glanced around the living room and kitchen before heading to the bedroom, and there he found John spread out on the bed in nothing but his underwear, nursing a beer. “Hi.”

“You're a fucking bastard,” John said in return. “I have never lied to people I love so much in my life.”

“I'm sorry,” Bobby said, pulling off his tuxedo jacket and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I know I ask too much of you, Johnny, I just don't know how to do this any other way.”

“I do! It's this crazy thing called the TRUTH.”

Bobby started to undo the rest of his tuxedo, tossing the pieces onto the floor until he was in nothing but his briefs, then laid down next to John. “You know that that truth scares me.”

“Yeah, but I don't understand why,” John said, sighing heavily. “It's not your family, because you hate them anyway. It's not Kitty, because you two wouldn't be the first celebrity couple to split in the history of the world. It's not your job, because you don't answer to anybody, Drake, and I highly doubt you're going to fire yourself. So what is it?”

Bobby settled himself along John's side, taking the empty bottle out of his hands and tossing it towards the trash. “It just does.”

“I think you need some therapy, Drake,” John said seriously. “I think you need to sit down and talk with someone about why it is you can't even be truthful to yourself.”

Bobby was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I'll find a therapist.”

John looked over at him. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“You're not just saying that so I'll fuck you?”

Bobby laughed. “I don't think you're in any condition to fuck me right now anyway.”

“Drake.”

“I'm being serious,” Bobby said, putting his head on John's shoulder. “I'll find a therapist.”

“Okay then,” John said, fighting back a yawn. “Did you have fun at your fancy thing?”

“Not even close,” Bobby said. “Did you have fun with your friends?”

“Sure, until I had to lie out my ass to them,” John said, turning to look at Bobby. “You're right. I'm too wrecked to fuck. Wanna just sleep with me?”

Bobby smiled. “Sounds great.”

John smiled back. “You're being very nice tonight.”

“Because I was an asshole this afternoon and I realize it.”

“I like you nice,” John said, letting his eyes slip closed.

“I like you nice too,” Bobby said, slinging an arm across his waist. “Maybe in the morning we can talk about how to be nicer to one another from now on.”

“Maybe,” John said around a yawn. “Maybe.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Hi Johnny boy,” Marie said from behind the cash register. “The usual?”

“Yup,” John said, retrieving his Pepsi from the fridge at the end of the lane. “Why? You think I'm really going to mix it up now?”

“Just thought you might really like that magazine with Kitty Pryde on the cover,” Marie said casually. “She says some very interesting things in the article. I've been readin' it durin' my breaks.”

John stared at Marie for a moment before moving to the magazine rack and finding the copy of _Marie Claire_ with Kitty on the cover. _Exclusive in depth interview_ , it claimed. _Shadowcat shocks the world!_

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Marie said, winking at him.

John sighed and tossed the magazine on top of his food. “Alright, I'll trust your judgment. You and Remy going to the opening of the Manhattan Mutant Youth Center this weekend?”

“Why would we go there?” Marie asked as she rang up his order. “Remy and I ain't youths, honey.”

“Remy said something about wanting to volunteer there.”

“Yeah, he's wantin' to, but he's still hung up about Xavier's,” Marie said, shaking her head. “Besides, he needs a payin' job, not a free one.”

John gave her a confused look. “What happened to the auto shop in Stuyvesant Heights?”

“Got fired for showin' off his card tricks,” Marie said, her voice icy. “Apparently the owner don't like mutants workin' for him.”

John sighed angrily and then reached out, squeezing Marie's gloved hand. “I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Marie said. “I keep tellin' him that maybe Xavier's could help find him a job in a mutant-friendly place, but he's not wantin' to go.”

“Tell him you want to take him to a new vintage shop in the East Village, then drag him into Xavier's instead,” John suggested as Marie bagged up his groceries.

“That's,” Marie paused for a moment. “That's a good idea, actually. Thanks, Johnny boy.”

“Not a problem, Marie,” John said, taking his bags. “You're sure about this magazine?”

“Positive,” Marie said, smiling as someone walked into the line behind John. “I'll talk to you later, Johnny boy.”

John just nodded and walked out of the corner store, making the short trip back to his apartment. He put away the food, then grabbed the magazine and walked into his bedroom, collapsing onto the bed and opening it. He quickly found the page with the interview and started reading.

He was a page in, rolling his eyes at the clichés and wondering what in the world Marie had told him to read this for, when suddenly the topic changed to whether she'd ever do a lesbian-themed photo shoot.

_”Of course I would!” Pryde exclaimed. “It wouldn't even be uncomfortable for me. I love kissing beautiful women.”_

_When asked to elaborate, Pryde explained. “Well, I've wanted to tell the world that I'm bisexual for awhile now, you know, but it's hard to know the right time to do it. Plus, there's my relationship with Bobby, which everyone thinks means I'm straight as an arrow. But no, I bend both ways, and Bobby lets me have my dalliances, just like I let him have his.”_

_When asked to elaborate on Drake's dalliances, Pryde shook her head. “That's for him to talk about, not me. I think he likes having part of his private life be exactly that, private. I'm certainly not going to be the one to ruin that for him.”_

John tossed the magazine onto the bed next to him and ran his hands over his face. “What the fuck did you do that for, Kitty?”

He grabbed his phone and tried calling Bobby, but he didn't answer. He left him a brief voice mail asking him to call and hung up. Then he scrolled through his contacts and found one of the newer additions, pressing the buttons to call that number.

“Blink. Make it quick,” came the answer.

“You talk that way to everyone?” John asked.

“Pyro, I'm trying to talk to you and balance twelve cups of coffee and walk back to Kitty's shoot. So make it quick.”

“I was wondering if I could come hang out at Kitty's shoot today,” John said, taking a deep breath. “I want to talk to you about some stuff.”

John heard Clairce sigh before rattling off an address in Manhattan. “Be there within an hour or I won't let you in. She'll actually be in front of the camera by then.”

“Got it,” John said, and the phone went dead.

He got up and grabbed his keys, made sure his wallet was still in his pocket, and then went out the door. He jogged to the nearest station and got on a train to Manhattan, and once he was close enough to the address, he got off. He made his way up from the station and walked the two blocks to the address, then followed the staircase up to an abandoned apartment. He opened the door carefully and let himself inside, getting a few confused looks from some of the crew until he heard Kitty shriek.

“Johnny!”

He had never given her permission to call him that, but he swallowed that down and walked towards her, where a whole team of people had her surrounded. “Hi Kitty.”

“Clairce told me you were coming but I didn't actually believe it!” Kitty exclaimed, sighing when someone told her to sit still and look forward. “Warpath, I'm greeting a friend.”

“I don't care,” the man said. “We have a schedule to keep.”

Kitty huffed but did as he asked, and she waved John around so she could see him. “This is James Proudstar, aka Warpath. He's my hairstylist. Warpath, this is John Allerdyce, aka Pyro.”

“Oh, so this is Pyro,” Warpath said, running his fingers through Kitty's hair. “It's nice to finally meet you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” John asked, looking at Kitty.

Kitty just smiled at him. “It means I talk about you a lot, idiot.”

Kitty winked at him and John relaxed a little. “Then it's nice to meet you, James.”

“Warpath,” he corrected.

“Warpath,” John said. “Who is everyone else?”

“Well, this is Bishop,” Kitty said, pointing at the guy in front of her.

“Lucas Bishop,” said the man who was brushing blush onto Kitty's cheeks. “But just Bishop, if you don't mind.”

“Not at all,” John said.

“Piotr Rasputin is my bodyguard. He's over there somewhere making sure all the set is safe,” Kitty said, motioning over her shoulder at where a tall, muscular man was overseeing things. “But call him Colossus.”

“Is everyone around you a mutant?” John asked, smiling when Kitty nodded, prompting both Warpath and Bishop to tell her to sit still.

“Yes, they are. Including the photographer. Roberto da Costa, but call him Sunspot. He's over there talking to Clairce.”

John looked over to where Clairce was talking with a man who was fiddling with a camera and he nodded. “Seems like you have a good group around you.”

“I do,” Kitty said, smiling. “They keep me safe and sane and keep my secrets too.”

“Secrets like the ones you spilled in the _Marie Claire_ article?” John asked.

Kitty sighed. “Bobby's not happy with me.”

“I wonder why,” John said. “Bobby is allowed to have dalliances? I'm sure he loved that.”

“Well it's true!” Kitty exclaimed. “You of all people should know that!”

John stared at Kitty for a moment before she sighed heavily. “I trust them, Johnny. They know everything.”

“Even about me?” John asked.

“Even about you,” Kitty said, giving him a pleading look. “Don't be mad at me? I had to talk to someone about what Bobby was up to with you. I just so happen to do my best talking when I'm sitting in this chair.”

Clairce appeared next to John and he jumped slightly. “I am still not used to you doing that.”

“Sorry Pyro,” Clairce said, looking over at Kitty. “Everything going alright, love?”

“I think Johnny's mad at me,” Kitty said, pouting. “He's not happy I spilled his secret.”

John sighed heavily. “It's not my secret. It's Bobby's secret. If I had it my way, it wouldn't be a secret. And I'm not mad at you.”

“You're just curious why no one has sold you and Bobby out,” Clairce said, and John nodded vigorously. “That's because we're all loyal to Kitty and Bobby, and by extension, also loyal to you. We're a group with big secrets, and we keep those secrets.”

“Trust us, Johnny,” Kitty said, turning her heavily made up eyes towards him. “I promise, no one here is going to sell you out.”

John nodded and Clairce put an arm around his shoulders. “Now that that's settled, how about we go sit in those chairs over there,” Clairce said, pointing as a row of chairs, “because Kitty will be in front of the camera in about two minutes?”

“Sounds good,” John said, walking away with Clairce. “And maybe you can tell me more about these people that know more about me than I know about them.”

Clairce just laughed. “Oh don't worry, Pyro. We'll all be best friends by the time this photo shoot is over.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Do we like actually have to be here for this?” Wanda asked as she looked around the full youth center. “I mean, we've already been here.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Peter added. “Like, I could have Wanda over to Kelly's house and be back in like three seconds. I'm sick of listening to her whine.”

“And I hate it when Peter does that with me, but I'm willing to undergo it just to get out of here,” Wanda sighed.

Erik just stared at his sixteen-year-old twins and sighed. He wasn't good at these situations, especially with Wanda. Wanda needed a woman's touch and Magda had handled her beautifully until her death when the twins were seven. Ever since, while Peter had been generally good about behaving, Wanda had been rebelling against her father, wanting her mother and then wanting her best friend Kelly's mother, and Erik did not like that the best friend's mother was becoming a replacement for Magda. When he'd begun his relationship with Charles, Wanda had taken to him, and she'd listened for awhile, but now she'd hit the awkward teenager years where even acknowledging that she liked her stepfather was out of the question.

Erik eventually sighed and shook his head. “Wanda, we are here supporting Mystique. You cannot leave.”

“But she's not even really my aunt!” Wanda exclaimed. “She's Charles's sister!”

“And by marriage that makes her your aunt,” came a rather hurt sounding voice, and Wanda spun around to find Charles behind her. “I thought you liked Raven, Wanda.”

“I do,” Wanda whined. “I just don't want to be here right now.”

“Why not?” Charles asked, looking at her with curiosity, and Erik's jaw about dropped when Wanda answered him with what he thought was some version of the truth.

“Kelly's going on a date with Angelo tonight and I told her that I'd be there to help her get ready and stuff, but you've got to understand that half of the getting ready is actually convincing Kelly to go on this date with Angelo because she's all freaked out because he's a mutant, and one of the obvious ones, and...”

Charles put his hand up to stop her. “Wanda,” he asked slowly, “Kelly does know that you're a mutant, right?”

Wanda ducked her head and Erik's eyes widened to what he thought were probably comical levels. “You haven't even told your BEST FRIEND that you're a mutant?” he exclaimed loudly. “Wanda!”

“Mutants freak her out!” Wanda said, refusing to lift up her head. “She wouldn't want anything to do with me if she knew. I mean, she knows about Peter and you two and why do you think she's never around anymore?”

Erik walked over to his daughter and pulled her into a hug, which Wanda promptly squirmed her way out of. “Dad!”

“Wanda, what am I going to do with you?” Erik sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Charles?”

Charles was watching them carefully. “Wanda, I will make you a deal. You can go to Kelly's, but only if you tell her you are a mutant. And you can't lie to me, Wanda. I will know if you do it or not.”

Wanda pouted and looked between Charles and Erik before turning around and stalking towards the exit. “Come on, Peter. I'll try not to throw up this time.”

Peter just gave Erik and Charles a smile and took off after Wanda.

Erik sucked in a deep breath. “My own daughter is not comfortable telling the girl she has been best friends with since they were three-years-old that she's a mutant. Charles, I don't think I know Wanda anymore.”

Charles wheeled closer to Erik and reached out for his hand. “You do, love. She's still your little girl. She's just grown up some.”

“And growing fast,” Erik added. “The boyfriend called me at work yesterday.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“He wants Wanda to go on a group trip to D.C.,” Erik said. “Him and a bunch of their friends.”

“And after you wanted to murder him, what did you tell him?”

Erik sighed heavily. “I made him tell me every detail of this trip, asked him several questions, and then caved in and said she could go. He's going to tell her tonight.”

Charles smiled and squeezed Erik's hand. “I think you're doing perfectly fine with Wanda, and Peter for that matter. It's not easy, Erik. We knew it wouldn't be easy when we decided to share our lives.”

A few seconds later, Peter appeared in front of them. “Got her there and she didn't throw up.”

Erik just shook his head while Charles smiled approvingly. “You must be getting better at keeping them stable, Peter. That's excellent.”

“Thanks Charles,” Peter said, grinning. “For what it's worth, Kelly looks like a total dumb blonde. If we get her in front of Charles, he could make her okay with mutants in a second, and I don't mean messing with her mind.”

Peter then disappeared again and Charles laughed. “One thing is certain, Erik. Life is never boring.”

Erik chuckled. “No, love, it definitely is not.”

“Why are you two over here in a corner?” came Raven's voice, and they turned to see her walking over to them. “You are two of the distinguished guests and people came here to meet you and you're hiding in a corner.”

“Just having a private chat, Raven. I was actually about to head in that direction,” Charles said, pointing towards the other side of the room, “and talk with Pyro and Rogue and their friend who looks rather uncomfortable.”

Raven looked over at them and nodded. “That's the guy that stopped by last week and asked about volunteering. So definitely find out why he's uncomfortable.”

“Will do, my girl,” Charles said, wheeling away from Raven and Erik and making his way through the crowd until he was closing in on his targets. “Pyro! Rogue! It's wonderful to see both of you here.”

“Hi Professor,” John said, glancing around the room only to see Bobby waving at him to come there. “Excuse me, work apparently beckons.”

Marie squeezed John's hand as he walked away and she smiled at Charles. “Hi Professor. This is Gambit.”

Remy looked over at her. “You never call me Gambit.”

“The Professor deals in mutant names,” Marie said, taking Remy's hand. “Remy LeBeau, Charles Xavier. Charles, this is Remy.”

“It's wonderful to finally meet you, Gambit,” Charles said, holding out his hand to Remy.

Remy stared at it for a few moments before reaching out and shaking it. “The same Xavier that's behind the foundation?”

“That's me,” Charles said, “but please, call me the Professor.”

“You swindle mutants out of their money.”

Marie gasped and reached out and slapped Remy on the shoulder. “I told you that was all bullshit.”

“Yes, it very much is all bullshit,” Charles said. “No mutant that comes into the foundation is asked to pay a cent. Everything is privately funded. The propaganda that gets put out about us, it makes me sick to be honest. We just try to help mutants like you and Rogue.”

“I told you, I just had to fill out some paperwork to get our rent paid,” Marie said. “And the Professor's really great to talk to. He's the one that's got me thinkin' of goin' back to school.”

“Yes, because we can afford that,” Remy said, shaking his head. “Why'd you put such an idea into her head?”

“Because there is absolutely nothing wrong with someone wanting to further their education,” Charles said, eyeing Remy suspiciously. “Rogue, are you absolutely sure this is the same Gambit you speak to me about?”

“Positive,” Marie said, slapping Remy's shoulder again. “He's just freakin' out because he still doesn't have a payin' job, and you're already payin' our rent, and I haven't even told him yet that you'd pay for me to take some night classes because I know how he'll react.”

“Oh, so Xavier's gonna pay for you to go to school?” Remy said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why don't you just move in to Xavier's then, huh? Seems like he can support you.”

Marie sighed heavily. “Remy, you're an idiot. This isn't about supportin' me. This is about me gettin' a better job than checkin' groceries at the corner store so we can have the life we want together. And you're gonna get a job again sometime, baby. I just know it.”

“If you'd like, Gambit, you could come into our office and we could talk about our job assistance program. I'd tell you more about it, but that's more my partner Erik's project. I feel you may connect better with Erik than you would with me.” Charles smiled at him. _Erik, come here please._

A few moments later, Erik was strolling up behind Charles. “Yes, dear?”

“Oh lord, don't tell me we've reached the point where you're saying that,” Charles laughed, looking up at Erik. “Please.”

“I'll never say it again,” Erik said, smiling at the younger pair. “Hello again, Rogue.”

“Hi Magneto,” Marie said, trying to pull Remy's arms away from his chest. “This stubborn idiot is Gambit.”

“Well, then hello Gambit,” Erik said, smiling at him. “Are you the one who needs a job? Rogue's always talking about someone who needs a job.”

Remy turned and gave Marie a look, but she just rolled her eyes. “Yes, he's the one needin' a job. He had one till the owner found out he was a mutant and then he got fired. Before that he was workin' for this auto parts company near where we live but he got laid off.”

“And thank you for spillin' my life story to someone I've just met,” Remy said, sighing. “I don't even know why we came here.”

“We came here so you'd stop bein' such an idiot and so I could introduce ya to people that can help, Remy. The Professor and Magneto can help.”

Charles looked up at Erik. “He's believed the propaganda.”

“Ah,” Erik said. “Well, I suppose there's nothing we could do about that. Too bad, because I know of just the right job for someone like you. Just came in yesterday, you'd be the first candidate I'd send their way. Totally mutant-friendly.”

Remy just stared at Erik until Marie slapped him again. “Why do you keep slappin' me?”

“Because you're bein' a stubborn idiot!” Marie exclaimed. “Listen to the man about the job.”

“Where's it at?” Remy eventually said. “I don't wanna spend a fortune gettin' to and from work every day.”

“It's in Mapleton, Brooklyn,” Erik said. “Auto body shop that needs a mechanic. I remember Rogue saying that you like working on cars.”

“Yeah, I do,” Remy muttered, glancing over at Marie. “You're sure I can trust these guys?”

“Have we gotten evicted yet?”

“No.”

“Then yes,” Marie said, turning to look at Erik. “He'll take the job.”

“Marie!”

“What? You will!”

“Well yeah, but let me say it!”

Charles and Erik just smiled at each other. “Come by the office on Monday morning, Gambit, and we'll get you all set up,” Erik said.

“Erik?” Charles said.

“Yes, love?”

“Basketball court.”

Erik sighed. “If you'll excuse me, I think my son is terrorizing people on the basketball court.”

“Nice seein' you, Magneto,” Marie said.

“Nice meetin' ya,” Remy added.

“Same,” Erik said, heading towards the basketball court.

Charles smiled at them. “Excuse me, but I've got to make the rounds. Raven will kill me if I spend too much time talking to one person. She's got me trying to talk people into investing in the youth center.”

“Of course, Professor, see ya later,” Marie said, grabbing Remy by the hand and leading him off.

Charles turned and wheeled himself in the direction of John, who he could tell was infuriated with the man he was supposedly working for. He rolled to a stop right next to John and looked up at him. “Everything alright?”

“No,” John said through gritted teeth. “Not even close.”

“Want to talk about it?” Charles asked. “We could go into the manager's office.”

John glanced around, saw Bobby and Kitty talking to someone in an expensive looking suit, and nodded. “Yeah, that would be great.”

Charles turned and John followed him into a small office, closing the door behind them. “He's driving me absolutely insane, and not in a good way.”

“What has he done now?” Charles asked, motioning for John to sit in the chair in front of him.

“Did you see the _Marie Claire_ interview Kitty did?”

“Wanda read it. Apparently Mr. Drake is allowed dalliances. I suppose you are the dalliances she referred to?”

“Yes, and if there's more than me, then I really will kill him,” John said, running his hands through his hair. “He has now decided that we need to be more careful, as though we were being reckless beforehand. He is absolutely terrified of someone finding out about our relationship. He's terrified of something else too, I can tell. I just don't know what.”

Charles thought about what he knew about Bobby Drake that John didn't and sighed. “How is he wanting you to be more careful?”

“You know how he just waved me over? It wasn't because he wanted to talk to me, it wasn't because he wanted to introduce me to someone, it was so he could send me across the street to get Kitty a latte because Blink isn't here,” John said bitterly. “Kitty stepped in and told me I didn't have to do it, but he said it in front of a group of people who all think I'm nothing more than Bobby Drake's personal assistant, and I'm starting to feel more and more that that's all I really am. Bobby's personal assistant. It's just that sometimes the assisting I'm doing is of a sexual nature. He's paying me more money than ever now, and I've got to say, Professor, I feel like a high dollar prostitute.”

Charles reached out and touched John on the arm, making him look at him. “Pyro, I know that you have resisted talking about this before but perhaps now is a better time. I think you need to take a hard look at Mr. Drake's place in your life and decide if he really belongs there. You have a good life, Pyro, and I'd love for you to talk to my publishing company about some of the stuff you've written and told me about because it sounds fascinating and I'd love to read it, but I think you need to realize that you have a good life without Mr. Drake in it.”

“Professor,” John started, but Charles cut him off.

“I've resisted calling what he does to you emotional abuse, Pyro, especially since we've talked about the emotional abuse you've endured in the past, but that's what it is. It's emotional abuse and it's unhealthy for you, and I know you love him and that makes this difficult, but you really need to think about removing Mr. Drake from your life.”

John stared at Charles for a few moments before breaking eye contact and staring at the door. “Fuck,” he eventually said. “You're right.”

“Talk to me, Pyro. Tell me how you're feeling.”

“Used,” John said after a moment. “Used and abused, just like I used to.”

“Then I think you know what you need to do,” Charles said softly. “I'm sorry, my friend.”

John just nodded and stood up. “Thanks Professor,” he said as he walked out of the office.

Charles sat there for a few more moments, thinking about what else he could do to help John, when Raven poked her head into the office.

“Charles! Hiding in this office is not helping me!”

“Sorry Raven,” Charles said, wheeling himself towards the door. “I'm coming.”


	11. Chapter 11

_Bobby Drake is a Mutant – Exclusive Details About the Real Estate Magnate_

The moment Bobby saw the front page of the _New York Times_ , he froze. He stared at the headline for several minutes before Kitty wandered into the dining room for breakfast and she gave Bobby a strange look. 

“Hey, Iceman, you alright?”

Bobby's eyes flickered with emotion as he folded the newspaper. “He sold me out.”

“Who sold you out?”

“John.”

Kitty grabbed the paper and looked at the headline, sighing heavily. “Bobby, there's no way that Johnny sold you out. He didn't know this. You know he didn't know this.”

Bobby swallowed hard and took several deep breaths. “Then you sold me out, because you're the only person who knew that I was a mutant.”

Kitty gave him a hurt look. “I would never sell you out and you know that, Robert Drake! I'm just as shocked to see this headline as you are!”

“Then who?” Bobby asked, running his hands over his face. “God, I can't go to work today. I can't face them.”

“Bobby,” Kitty said, reaching out and grabbing one of his hands. “It's going to be alright. You couldn't hide this forever.”

“Yes, I could have,” Bobby said automatically, and Kitty squeezed his hand hard.

“No, you couldn't, you idiot. It's building up inside you, Bobby. I can sense it. You need to use your gift or it's going to make you sick again.”

Bobby took a deep breath. “I know. I thought a getaway to somewhere in the mountains of Colorado was in order. Somewhere where it wouldn't be suspicious to see a lot of ice.”

“Just do it right here,” Kitty said, sighing. “Bobby, this info is out there. Nothing's going to change it now, and I'm not about to let you deny it. This is one less thing that you have to hide, and that's a good thing.”

Bobby nodded as one of the staff walked into the room, setting their breakfast plates on the table before walking away. Bobby stared at the plate and then turned and looked towards where the servant had gone for a few moments before turning back to Kitty. “One of the staff.”

Kitty thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “They probably overheard us talking about it once, decided to sell you out for some more money.”

“If only I knew which one it was,” Bobby said, letting go of Kitty's hand. “I'm probably going to have to fire them all.”

“Let me work on them,” Kitty pleaded. “I'll find out who did it.”

Bobby thought about it for a moment. “You have until tomorrow,” he eventually said, standing up and walking out of the room. 

He stopped by the bedroom to check and make sure he looked composed enough, and then grabbed his keys and wallet and left the penthouse. The ride down to the garage took long enough that Bobby had a chance to call John, but he didn't get anything but his voice mail. He left one even though he thought he shouldn't, asking John to please call him and let Bobby explain, but part of him knew that John wasn't going to call.

He got into his car as soon as he was in the parking garage, and he found himself driving aimlessly around New York City for the next few hours. Before he realized it, he was in the East Village, pulling to a stop in front of the offices of the Xavier Foundation. He sat in the car for a few minutes before climbing out and then he leaned up against it for a few more minutes.

The door to the office opened and Charles wheeled himself outside, giving Bobby a comforting smile. “Ah, Mr. Drake. I was wondering if we would see you today. Please, come in. You're more than welcome.”

Bobby hesitated for a moment before walking around the car and following Charles into the office. The front desk had no one sitting behind it, and Bobby was glad because he wasn't sure he could handle running into anyone else yet. Charles sensed Bobby's nerves and turned to look at him.

“The only other person here is my husband, Mr. Drake. And no one here is ever going to consider you different because you happen to be a mutant. Instead, I'm quite curious to learn about your ability and I know Erik will be the same.”

Bobby nodded and Charles turned back around, leading them into his office. Bobby closed the door behind him and then took a seat in one of the armchairs as Charles wheeled himself around the desk. “I don't know what to do,” Bobby eventually said, and Charles just nodded.

“I have seen many mutants in my day that are afraid of what the perception of them will be if their mutant status is revealed,” Charles said. “I've never had anyone whose mutant status has been revealed quite the way that yours has been, but you are not the usual type of client we get in here.”

“That doesn't surprise me,” Bobby said, swallowing hard. “John, my personal assistant, he said that he comes here and talks to you sometimes.”

“Yes, Pyro and I have therapy sessions once a week,” Charles said. “He's been through a lot in his life. It's good for him to talk about it.”

Bobby took a deep breath. “Has he ever talked to you about me?”

Charles studied him for a minute. “If you're referring to the true nature of your relationship with Pyro, then yes, I know about that. He's needed someone to talk to about the absolutely appalling way you treat him.”

Bobby ducked his head in shame. “I know I should treat him better. He's almost always angry with me, but I know he loves me and I play on that to get him to stay. He doesn't deserve it, but I don't know what I'd do if he left me.”

“May I ask if you love him?” Charles asked.

“I don't know,” Bobby said, taking another deep breath. “Kitty, she says I don't have a heart, that I truly am Iceman, or I would have told John I loved him ages ago. I think she might be right.”

“Iceman?” Charles asked. “Is that your mutant name?”

Bobby nodded. “I can create, control, and manipulate ice.”

Charles smiled at him. “I'd love a demonstration of that some time. It sounds amazing.”

“Kitty thinks it is,” Bobby said, running his hands over his face. 

“May I call you Iceman? I prefer to deal in mutant names.”

Bobby nodded. “I don't know who sold me out.”

“Well, I believe we can rule out Pyro,” Charles said. “He knew nothing of you being a mutant.”

Bobby looked up at that. “Did you know?”

“I'm a telepath,” Charles said. “I pick up on other people's thoughts even when I'm trying not to listen. I heard you thinking about it the day we were all given the private tour of the youth center. I didn't say anything to Pyro about it, nor to anyone but my husband, and I can assure you he has not said a word either. We are not in the business of outing mutants.”

“I wasn't trying to imply that,” Bobby said quickly. “I just was surprised that you already knew.”

“Do you have any possible candidates for who may have sold you out then?” Charles asked just as Bobby's phone rang.

“I'm sorry,” Bobby said, pulling the phone from his pocket and seeing who was calling before answering. “Kitty, did you figure it out?”

“Caroline overheard us talking about it,” Kitty said quickly. “She told her boyfriend about it, and her boyfriend told his boss. That's all she knew, so I asked her who her boyfriend's boss was. Sebastian Shaw, Bobby. I'm almost positive that this is the work of Sebastian Shaw.”

Bobby sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks Kitty. I've got to go.”

“Alright,” Kitty said, “but call me later. I'm worried about you.”

“I will, I promise,” Bobby said before hanging up the phone. “Sorry about that.”

“Not a problem,” Charles said. “That was an important phone call.”

Bobby stared at Charles for a moment before Charles shrugged. “Telepath. You think very loudly.”

“Sorry,” Bobby said, leaning back in the chair. “Sebastian Shaw has wanted his hands on my company for a very long time. I'm not really surprised that he's gone to this length to try to discredit me.”

“For the record, I don't think that revealing that you're a mutant is going to discredit you, Iceman. It may take some explanation, but discredit you? I don't think so.”

“I don't think you understand,” Bobby said. “There are people that will refuse to do business with me now. There are probably people within my own company who refuse to work for me now.”

“It will certainly change some things, but I don't think it's anything life-shattering,” Charles said as there was a knock on his door. “Come in.”

The door opened and John walked in, freezing in his tracks when he saw Bobby sitting there. “Magneto said you were alone.”

“Because he didn't know Iceman was here,” Charles said, wheeling himself around his desk. “I think you two need to talk alone. I'll go and see what Erik is up to.”

Charles left the office and John shut the door behind him, leaning up against it. Neither of them said anything for a long time and then Bobby cleared his throat.

“So, I'm a mutant,” he said, his voice full of nerves.

“So I heard,” John said. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“No one knew,” Bobby said. “No one but Kitty.”

“But I'm your...” John trailed off, not even sure how to describe what he was to Bobby anymore. “You should have told me.”

“I should have done a lot of things with you, Johnny. But I didn't.”

John pushed away from the door and collapsed down into the other armchair. “I love you, Bobby, but I don't like you very much anymore. You have taken something that was so special to me and absolutely destroyed it.”

“I know,” Bobby said, taking a deep breath. “You deserve so much better than me, Johnny. You deserve someone who can love you like you deserve to be loved.”

“And you don't think that is you,” John said, knowing he didn't even have to ask. “Why drag this out for so long if you were always going to break it off?”

“I don't want to break it off,” Bobby said, turning away from John. “I just think you deserve better.”

“I do deserve better,” John agreed. “But I don't understand why that can't come from you.”

Bobby laughed hollowly. “Kitty says I don't have a heart. It's why I'm so ruthless in business deals and it's why I treat you like shit. Maybe she's right. Maybe I truly am Iceman, the man with no heart.”

“Fire and ice,” John murmured. “Do you even realize how perfect our mutations are for each other? How perfect we are for each other?”

“I've known ever since you first showed me what you could do with fire,” Bobby practically whispered. “I wanted to tell you then but I didn't. I've wanted to tell you so many times but I just didn't. I'm so ashamed of what I am, Johnny.”

“I know you are,” John said. “I just don't understand why you are.”

“I'm not sure I can explain it to you,” Bobby said softly. “I'm not sure I can even explain it to myself.”

John groaned and ran his hands over his face. “So is this it then? You won't even try for me?”

“I have deep affection for you, Johnny,” Bobby said firmly. “But I can't change overnight. And I think your patience has run out.”

John slumped down in the chair and sighed. “Even after everything you've done, Drake, and it's a lot of shit and you're right, my patience has run out, I don't want to let you go. I love you too much. But I think you need some help, Bobby. Something's not right.”

Bobby swallowed hard, then finally turned and looked John in the eyes. “I shouldn't even be asking you this, but are you willing to wait for me? For me to get the help I need? I don't want to lose you, Johnny.”

“You're right, you shouldn't be asking me that,” John said, taking a deep breath. “But I'll wait. For awhile. I won't wait forever. And I will only take you back if you promise me there will be no more hiding. I'm sick of hiding and lying and I don't want to do it anymore.”

Bobby stared into John's eyes, swallowed hard, and nodded. “No more hiding. I promise.”

“Then I will give you time to sort things out,” John said, standing up. “Talk to the Professor more. He can really help you.”

“The Professor?”

“Charles,” John said, hand on the doorknob. “Bobby?”

“What?”

“You do have a heart,” John said seriously. “You just need some fire to melt all the ice around it.”

And then John walked out of the office before Bobby could say a word. Charles came back in a few moments later, and he took one look at how miserable Bobby looked before wheeling back behind his desk. “Shall we continue, Iceman? And then maybe set up a regular appointment for you?”

Bobby ran his hands over his face, sat up straight, and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I think that would be best.”


End file.
